


Only Fools Rush In

by truc



Series: The Compass that Guides Us [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics)
Genre: Addiction much?, Alfred is trying to help Bruce with social interactions, Aliens are everywhere!, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, And family?, Angst, Batfamiy chatting, Batman has to admit he has feelings..., Bonding, Bruce Wayne needs help, Bruce adopts too many people, Bruce overthinks everything, Clark Kent needs help, Crazy Gothamites!, F/M, Gen, Hal is confused, Jealousy, Joker is evil (of course), Lex Luthor needs help, Lex is somewhat trying, Love and friendship tale?, M/M, Responsibility, The Justice League is mystified, Tim vs Damian wars, everyone needs help
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-04-08 06:01:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 77,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14098818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truc/pseuds/truc
Summary: "The first time you see Bruce Wayne coolly empty a gun into someone's head, it is disquieting. The second time? You get used to it."-Lex LuthorMadness seems to follow Bruce everywhere and being his friend means you have an interesting life too.Getting embroiled into Tim vs Damian's wars that sometimes devolves into games... Getting to know Bruce's "friends" (imagine Lex's surprise at hearing Bruce has friends)... Ignoring the strange relationship between Bruce and Clark... Getting involved in alien's invasions, innocent touristic mistakes and kidnapping's attempts... Intergalactic contract drafting and world peace negotiations... Bruce's insane children plotting things away... Alfred knowing everything...There is certainly no shortage of Gotham's madness in Bruce's life.No matter, the only thing Bruce is truly worried about (except emotions and his children, of course) is Joker missing for over a month.Gotham is crazy and Bruce is a magnet for trouble are the only conclusions Lex can draw from this.*** The summary is from Lex's point of view, but the central character is Bruce.*** This is the continuation to "The Art of Deals, Dares and Seduction".





	1. New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second part of this series. It starts a month after the first part. If you haven't read the first part, you'll probably be confused by the characters' complicated relationships, but you can still enjoy this. 
> 
> *** Robin is Tim; Red Robin is Damian. Tim is still older.

"The first time you see Bruce Wayne coolly empty a gun into someone's head, it is disquieting. The second time? You get used to it," Lex thought a bit ironic as he was running beside a fleeing Bruce Wayne in full Batman mode.

"Do you really think the stairs are a good idea?" Lex had to breathlessly ask.

The man simply sent him a glare. Of course, Bruce never explained anything. Especially not when a black-haired, white-faced superpowered humanoid monster was chasing you.

"I'm gonna catch you, little mouse," the thundering voice echoed from below.

Bruce threw down some objects that exploded below.

"You are going to bring down the building on us!" Lex complained.

The other man simply ignored him again as they ran into a hallway. Nobody was following them.

"I can't run anymore," Lex admitted. The other billionaire took an exasperating look at him and nodded, "We should have stalled him long enough," he told as he aimed the third gun he had pickpocketed away toward the empty hall.

The black-bearded man broke out from the floor, yelling, "No more tricks!"

Bruce emptied, for the third time today, his (stolen) gun into the man's head. It barely slowed him down. No facial muscles changed in Bruce's face as he threw knives with his free hand at the almost invulnerable monster.

Sure enough, the man simply blocked with his arm, "You really made me work to catch you, but there are no more places to hide. It's over." He moved forward to catch Bruce.

Bruce ducked under the arm and appeared behind the man, scrambling away as the invulnerable mountain turned again.

Then, there was a familiar looking blur of blue and red pushing the monster into the opposing wall.

Great.

Superman was the one "saving" them.

"Lobo, why are you attacking them?" the ever-gentlemanly Superman demanded as if talking to a misbehaving child.

"Bounty, of course. Now, get out of the way of my job," the black-haired mountain answered while uppercutting Superman in the chin. Superman crashed into the ceiling, breaking it cleanly.

Monsters and Gods. Any fights between them could 'accidentally' kill ant-like humans.

Speaking of humans, Bruce was not simply staring at Lobo as Lex was doing. He had disappeared again.

Still, the explosions in the other room must be his handiwork.

Lex's hand was tugged in a direction and he followed after it, thinking Bruce would have a better idea where they should be headed to avoid being captured by this Lobo monster.

"Hey! Stop running away!" Lobo screamed somewhere in the background.

Lex felt the floor shake after something or someone crashed into it. Smoke was obscuring his vision and he was tired of running, "Your plan is terrible," he told Bruce in an afterthought.

The hand holding his only pulled harder as if to force his pace in a hall filled with smoke and holes as they felt more impacts on the floor, ceiling or walls.

Finally, they stumbled on the scene of Superman holding Lobo's black jacket bunched in his fists. The superhero was staring down disapprovingly at the other, "Stop destroying things. I don't have time to play with you."

Lobo snorted, "Ha, you never have time to play. I'm just do'ng my job. I'm a bounty hunter, you know. It's a frag world and all."

Superman responded, "I'm going to send your bike stuck outside into the sun if you don't stop trying to capture the person you have been seeking."

Lex would have been impressed by Superman's observational skills if not for the glance he saw the superhero send in Bruce's direction. Then, it became clear his 'friend' was feeding lines to Superman to use as a threat.

Bruce was the one having sent something similar to bubble-gum in the bike's front wheel. It had successfully stopped it from working.

"DON'T TOUCH MY RIDE!" Lobo bellowed with true vexation. His nonchalant face was suddenly deadly serious.

"Only if you tell us why you were chasing them and that you stop trying to get that bounty," serious speaking Superman replied in his tough-guy mode.

"Fine," Lobo answered, "The bounty wasn't that high anyway."

Lex and Bruce stepped closer to the two almost invulnerable individuals. Superman let down the other man and Bruce's hand was no longer holding Lex's.

"Well", Lobo said, cracking his neck, "a collector sends bounties for everyone appearing in this video gaining traction in the GN-z11 sector."

Superman crossed his arms over his chest, trying to look severe. In Lex's opinion, it was a failure.

"What video?"

"Wait a minute. I have it here. I'll put the subtitles on," Lobo said as he found a machine and activated it.

It was something akin to a touristic promotional video of Earth with Superman, Green Lantern, Green Arrow, the Martian, Wonder Woman and Flash appearing in it. As well as Bruce Wayne slapping an alien...

Lex quirked an eyebrow at Bruce while crossing his arms, trying to convey his thoughts of Batman getting into a touristic promotional video of Earth for aliens in his civilian's identity. That was a dumb idea and no matter how you looked at Bruce (except for his emotional side), he was not stupid.

Bruce just shook his head and Superman looked guilty for some reason or another. There was definitively a story behind all of this.

"Why did you try to catch this man and not the others?" Superman asked Lobo, obviously trying to change the subject.

Lobo played with his giant cigar, "The bounty wasn't high enough to be worth fighting the League. I was waiting until bounty hunters would go for you and fail, driving the price up. The bounty was good enough to catch a defenceless civilian, although this one sure knows how to defend himself."

A red flash rushed by, stopping near Superman. The red creature let out, "What?Everythingisalreadyundercontrol?"

Superman nodded in Flash's direction, "Yes. Lobo and I reached an understanding and no civilians were harmed during the fight." Lex knew it had been Bruce idea to escape the charitable event and go to an unpopulated area.

"AndLexLuthorwasabletodefendhimselffromLobosincethecallforhelp?Thatisimpressive!" Flash answered.

Superman stilled at that. Lobo opened his mouth, probably to specify it was the one with hair who had shot and thrown knives at him.

In a flash, Lex understood Flash had no idea Bruce Wayne was Batman, however, Superman knew it.

"I eat human hearts for breakfast," Lex quipped before he could stop himself.

Flash blinked at Lex, uncertain whether it was a joke or not while Superman frown at him, pensively.

The bald man knew Bruce would be glaring at him and probably accusing him of having bad improvising skills if not for Flash being ignorant he was Batman. As it were, Bruce simply smiled dazzlingly at them.

Lobo laughed and slapped heartily Lex's back, "That was hilarious! Human hearts are so disgusting!"

Lex had to swallow his pride. He was not on Lobo's level and hated to be treated as an inferior's companion. He grinned unamused at him, "Yes... They sure are."

Flash appeared on the other side of Superman as if putting the superhero between himself and the villains. Bruce simply walked forward, "I think I should go back. My date is still waiting for me."

"Your date?" Flash's bulging eyes seemed to indicate he feared more Bruce than Lex, even though he thought it likely Lex was eating hearts for breakfast.

Lex wasn't sure he wanted to know what Bruce had done to scare away his fellow superhero this much in his civilian's identity.

"Yes," Bruce answered with a stupid grin, "Do you want to come too? There is a lot of food."

Flash hid more completely behind Superman before waving goodbye, "Ifitisall, Ihavetogoback.Bye!" There was red flash and only a disapproving Superman, a ditzy looking billionaire, an unhappy Lex and a much too friendly villain.

"This is all fun and all, but I got to get my ride back in shape."

Bruce dropped his stupid smile, "Water dissolves the material around your wheel."

Lobo back slapped Lex one last time, propelling forward the billionaire, and he said, "It was good knowing you folks. You're both cool in my books. I won't kidnap you again for this bounty, kid."

With that, the overenthusiastic villain walked away leaving smudges of mud in the shape of his ridiculous boots' heels. Lex frowned at his departure. There was decisively no class to that act.

Lex had time to note Bruce was looking a tad too long and longingly at Superman before starting on the stairs, leaving Superman and Lex alone in a semi-demolished hallway. Lex ignored the other man as he made his way to the stairs.

"Wait," Superman ordered.

Lex stopped and turned to face his archenemy, the God everyone was so scared of upsetting. Lex knew better than that.

No God would ever dictate his destiny.

"Why should I?" Lex demanded while using his well-practiced businessman's tone. This was a degrading way to treat him considering their past association.

Superman flinched a tiny bit at the harsh tone, "You haven't attacked me or tried to take over the world for over a month. What are you planning?"

Ah. This was about Lex's lack of evil plotting in the last while. Lex liked making the superhero squirm under pressure and not doing anything evil seemed to get under Superman's skin.

This was an unexpected advantage to being "good". Maybe Lex should do it more often as a mean to confuse his enemies.

"I don't know why I should inform you of my plans," Lex responded in a severe voice.

Superman hovered an inch off the ground, looking more menacing than usual, "Are you trying to convince him you have reformed? Because we both know it is untrue."

Superman, with all his godly powers, was more worried Lex was somehow conning Batman than about Lex's trying to take over the world. The bald man was unsure if his pride as a supervillain was injured or not. Conning Batman for long periods of time seemed quite an achievement.

At the same time, it made Lex think Clark thought he had been conning Clark when they had been together. When Lex had been Clark's friend, a long time ago, he had tried to change for Clark's sake. It had been difficult all the way through. Everyone thought Lex was doomed to become exactly like his father.

Growing up had been an upstream battle.

Adults were always comparing him to his father. Kids tried to emulate adults' behaviour, each testing his intelligence, wisdom, knowledge and cunning and ridiculing him at every opportunity. It didn't take time for Lex to craft a mask for every circumstance. A mask of superiority and indifference. Lex knew he had to outmanoeuvre everyone to be someone in life.

Clark had been the exception. He had wanted to be his friend despite appearances.

Lex had wanted more because this was the closest emotional connection he had in his life except for his deceased mother. He had treasured the opportunity.

Nonetheless, as much as Clark wanted to give Lex a chance, Clark had never really trusted Lex. He would half-heartedly pretend he believed in Lex. That proved to be both of their undoings.

Lex really tried to change, however, he couldn't endure anymore Clark's face filled with disappointment as his hopes in Lex were dashed one incident after another.

Lex had known Clark was slipping away, without either ever verbalizing it. The more Lex promised to change, the more desperate he was to hold on to the emotional connection, the more it slipped through his grasp.

Lex could scrupulously remember how it felt to wake up alone in his bed with the breeze from a then open window. Clark had never been his. But when even the small space he had inhabited with Clark had flown away, distant and godlike, Lex's heart had broken. Perfect Superman couldn't stand an imperfect and soiled soul like Lex's and Lex's heart still yearned for him.

Lex had known back then, staring at the open window Clark had not bothered to close, he was as powerless of stopping Clark from going as he was of stopping wind of drifting away.

Still, Lex thrived in adversity. Nothing pushed him more to excellence than the impossible. Maybe Lex couldn't become good enough for Superman, however, he sure could drag down a God to his level and prove Clark was not the perfect otherworldly being he always pretended he was.

Superman didn't think Lex could change because Lex had failed many times before. He didn't realize Lex's motivations had changed.

Back then, Lex had wanted to please Clark and get everyone's approval on their dating.

Nowadays, Lex thought of Tim and Bruce. He wasn't really after anyone's approval as much as weighing the pros and cons of continuing using his usual methods.

Lex did want to continue seeing Tim. He wasn't stupid enough to believe Bruce would let him enjoy the boy's presence if the vigilante thought harm would befall Tim or if Lex was using Tim as a piece in his plan to conquer the world. Truthfully, this would not completely stop most of Lex's plotting. Except it was clear, after the famous Al Ghul incident, that Tim and Bruce tended to get involved in danger that wasn't aimed at them. Furthermore, Bruce wouldn't let Lex around Tim if he did not believe Lex could be a good influence.

Hence, Lex had to be the responsible and non-evil adult around Tim. Which is why he cut down on his world-dominating schemes for now. If Lex's ties with Bruce, Tim and Alfred were irrevocably cut, he would resume his former hobbies.

Moreover, contrary to Clark, Bruce didn't even try pretending trusting Lex. The two important differences were the following. One, with a few exceptions, Bruce did not trust anyone. Two, Bruce may not trust Lex, however, he still believed Lex could change.

It may seem similar, but it was not.

When Alfred had told Lex Bruce believed in redemption, Lex thought the old butler was exaggerating. Truth was, Lex could now believe, Bruce actually and sincerely believed Joker could change. Since the moment Lex had thought so, he understood how insane Bruce was. If Lex could think of one constant in this universe, it was that Joker would always be a sick psychopath.

Furthermore, Bruce seemed to understand Lex's perspective of the world. Bruce did not think himself better than Lex. He might believe he was putting more efforts into doing the right thing, that was all. Both were fallible men.

In conclusion, Lex did not feel the crushing expectations placed on himself. He could still be a prideful and flawed man to enjoy Tim's, Alfred's and Bruce's companies. Bruce only asked his family and friend be never put in danger because of Lex's plotting. It was much more manageable expectations to achieve.

Insofar as his promise to behave bound him, Lex understood he still completely hated Superman. That was not going to change soon.

Lex ignored Superman's comment and headed toward the exit.

"Lex," Superman's deceitful archangelic voice declared, "Do not harm him."

That settled any doubts Lex had until then. It was clear Bruce was in love with Superman from the previous behaviour exhibited today as well as other clues in the previous month and a half. Superman's request simply confirmed they were "together".

Lex felt the hard twist in his heart like the burning sensation of a plunging knife. It almost made him spout poisonous words. He was too proud to let himself look jealous so he simply changed tactics, "Superman, I am fully aware of what he is to you and what you are to him."

Clark was startled and tried to hide it, but Lex knew him better than to be fooled by appearances.

At Lex's pointed look, Clark ventured a question, "How do you know?"

Lex shrugged, "From the extreme measures you have both taken to keep it silent, I believe you can guess how I learned it."

Clark's suspicious face observed his, "How?"

"He told me," Lex answered with a mocking smirk as if the answer was obvious and Clark was a fool for not having thought of it.

There were torment and some betrayal filtering in Clark's face. Good, Lex thought, this feels so much more satisfying than throwing insults at him.

"I should congratulate you, Clark. You did keep your word," Lex insinuated with the taunting tone he normally used when he knew something Clark didn't.

"What?" a baffled Clark answered.

"Congratulations, you stole my boyfriend," Lex smiled with the air of superiority of someone knowing an inside joke the other was not made aware of.

Clark glared at him until Lex's phone beeped. He took it out and read Bruce's text, "Are you coming? The reporters will want to ask you questions."

"He's waiting for me," Lex told Clark apologetically, "I have to go. He and I have a lot to do together before the end of the day. As for harming him, why should I? We get along well enough together." At those words, Lex went downstairs. He knew Clark had used his power to verify if it had been Bruce texting him.

This was fun, Lex thought dryly, as he continued his way down.

Of course, it did hurt Clark and Bruce were dating, but, in reality, Lex theorized he was spending more time with Bruce than Clark was.

The reporters had caught on that even after their separation a month ago, Lex and Bruce would spend more time together in events even though they were "dating" other people. Tim would also be seen talking with Lex at any events they attended together. There were rumours Bruce and Lex had "broken" up for reasons other than romantic aspirations, but that they were still secretly dating one another. Lex did nothing to quell those stories.

It didn't hurt that Bruce needed pauses from pretending he was an idiot at each event and he didn't need to keep acting around Lex. It also didn't harm anyone that Lex went to the Manor several times over the last month.

Lex winced at the thought of visiting the Wayne Manor. He had been caught in traps Damian and Tim had set for the other. If Lex didn't think it would be used against him, he would always carry a taser with him going into that particular battlefield. It didn't take Lex long to figure out Tim was a rational and reasonable young man in everything except when it concerned Damian.

Lex liked Tim and Alfred. Damian? Not so much, since the kid hated him. Nonetheless, Lex was smart enough to know Bruce would spend more time with you if it was also with his family. Instead of cutting into Bruce's precious time dedicated to his duties, you had to push him into spending more time with his family. Alfred was almost always an ally in those endeavours and Bruce felt so guilty he wasn't there for his children, it was easy to guilt-trip him.

I am truly a master tactician, Lex thought as he met Bruce waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. Sure, spending more time with Bruce did not equate being his lover, but it did give you access to his family's life, which was more than Clark could say about his relationship with Bruce.

Bruce blinked at him, probably wondering what Superman and Lex had to say to one another.

"He was worried I was up to something because I hadn't done anything wrong recently," Lex explained. Bruce only lowered his chin, taking in Lex.

Bruce's intense stare was always intimidating and Lex could see how petty criminals would admit everything to him. The bald man was also aware Bruce was better at reading body language than he was. Lex had decided it was much simpler, to tell the truth to Bruce when they were alone. You simply needed to omit information and carefully word your statements. Still, Lex always had the uncomfortable feeling Bruce knew when Lex was hiding something. Thankfully, the other man rarely pressed for more information.

Before walking outside the building, Bruce gave Lex the three guns he had used. Lex stared at him, "Why are you giving me the guns?"

Bruce tilted his head in confusion, "Because you were the one having shot Lobo, it has to have your fingerprints on it."

As much as Lex liked the black-haired man standing next to him, he wanted to strangle Bruce. Lex was the smartest human alive and Bruce kept thinking Lex was slow in catching up to Batman's thinking. That was annoying.

"You knew Lobo wasn't trying to catch me since the beginning," Lex stated.

Bruce acknowledged it with a small nod.

"But you still dragged me into your fight. I thought you were supposed to keep civilians safe, not drag them into your fights."

Bruce just blankly looked at him as if his reason for dragging Lex into a fight with an almost invulnerable bounty hunter/assassin was evident.

"I'm not putting my fingerprints on the guns until you explain why I was dragged into your superhero business," Lex crossed his arms over his chest.

Bruce sighed, "Bruce Wayne does not know how to fight, except for some basic self-defence moves. Lex Luthor has been known to be an expert marksman and be trained by some important self-defence experts."

"Wait a minute. I do train, but it is not public knowledge," Lex contested.

"In a Russian article published seven years, there was a hint you liked shooting guns to pass your time. In an obscure article publish in Italy almost twenty years ago, there were mentions you had trained with famous self-defence experts. Five years ago, a video was posted online with you fighting off someone trying to assassinate you. There was a few more mentions or sightings. It is common knowledge you know how to defend yourself," Bruce finished with an exasperated face at having to explain something so basic.

Lex glowered at him, "That is not the real reason you dragged me into this. You have successfully managed to stall villains or assassins without needing external help before today."

"The real reason I dragged you into this was that there was no danger involved since Lobo simply wanted to capture me. It helped the public's perspective of me being helpless. More importantly, it kept you busy," Bruce huffed.

"What do you mean, it kept me busy?" Lex's patience in dissecting Bruce's convoluted thinking was quickly waning.

Bruce studied him, clearly wondering how much he should reveal to Lex, "You might not have done anything wrong lately, but you are bored. Bored talented people are a terrible combination. It is easier for you to relapse if you think life is boring without your usual stimulations."

"So," Lex started, trying not to lose his temper, "you think I am addicted to plotting world domination?"

"I haven't said that. I simply think you are wasting your potential away in boredom. I am sure there are worthy projects out there," Bruce carefully replied.

Lex had to take a moment to consider Bruce's rationale.

It was true Lex was becoming increasingly bored and he had wished for some action, nonetheless, Lex was not a masochist like Bruce and he certainly did not enjoy physical battles with invulnerable monsters while not wearing indestructible armour.

"Next time, Bruce, you want to use my resources for "good", I would recommend you propose a project. Your idea of dragging me into a physical fight with monsters is not an ideal way to resolve my boredom," Lex had to explain with a thin voice.

Bruce cocked his head again as if Lex was the one not making sense, "But you liked being a hero."

Lex stared at Bruce, realization dawning on him.

This was the second time Bruce was pushing him into the hero's role: the first being with Riddler. Lex could admit to himself he had liked the adrenaline and the acclaims the first time he had acted like a "hero" had given him even though he had been vexed at Bruce's manipulation.

This meant Bruce had been strategizing, since the beginning of their "association", of transforming Lex into a Justice League's asset. The bald man wasn't sure if he should be impressed by Bruce's manipulation techniques or not.

Alfred's words came back to him. Bruce believed in redemption.

It seems Bruce had decided keeping Lex busy with good "things" would help him discard world dominating schemes Lex's mind kept producing.

"Fine," Lex said as he took the guns, "I'll pretend to be a stupid billionaire rushing into physical fights for adrenaline's sake. I'm still mad at you."

Bruce nodded as he thought it was a good reaction. Most people would be so angry at being manipulated they would normally refuse to talk to him for a long while. Despite Lex's bad character, Lex was easier to get along with than most people, the billionaire thought as they started toward another chaotic journey.

***

N: How did it go?

R: As usual. B was attacked by Lobo in the middle of the fundraising and he refused our help in the matter. The Demon kid almost attacked curious reporters. A saved the day.

RH: A is awesome.

BB: He is.

S: If I were to be reincarnated, I'd want to be him or a waffle.

O: I will regret asking, but why a waffle?

S: I ate so much of them, it would only be fair I contributed to the cause.

N: What exactly did A do?

Red Robin (Damian), RR hereafter: He stopped me from murdering the noisy reporters. Father would not have been happy.

RH: B is never happy.

R: I don't know about that. I heard him humming the other day.

N: Poison?

S: Impostor?

RR: That is ridiculous. He would never hum. Only losers hum.

R: Well, he did.

RR: I would have seen it. I have much better observational skills than you.

R: Really? I am pulling up the video for everyone to see you are wrong.

N: Stop it! Remember last time?

O: I'm willing to ban both of you from the batchat if you don't behave.

RH: I don't believe it. It is B humming.

BB: B is happy.

S: WHAT HAPPENED?

N: A? What happened?

R: Is he even here at this time of the day?

A: I am always where I am needed, Master R.

RH: I knew it! A is the Master of circumstances.

O: True. We should probably make you a costume.

S: A, Ô knowledgeable master, kindly inform this ignorant group on why B is humming. I urgently need my batdrama fix.

A: Master B is humming because he is happy.

N: When did this happen?

A: Master RH is back in town. Mistress BB won the dance competition Master B attended. Masters R and RR have not substantially destroyed any part of the house for the first week since they started living in the same house. I believe Master has good reasons to be happy.

S: That's so... anticlimactic.

RH: I was hoping there were villains or magic involved.

O: A, are you sure that is all?

A: It is all I am aware of, Mistress O. It has been a long time since there were no major injuries in this family in a month's time. That is good news, no matter how you say it. I have some cooking to attend to.

Alfred has disconnected.

O: He is hiding something...

S: A or B?

O: Both.

BB: B is happy.

N: Like really happy?

RH: He hums. How much happier can you imagine him?

N: Smiling at everyone and hugging everyone?

R: Disturbing...

RR: I hate agreeing with you on anything, but I am forced to admit it is a disturbing imagery.

RH: N, you need some serious help if you can actually picture the old man smiling and hugging everyone without thinking mind control.

O: N is a hopeless optimist, it is not his fault the rest of us are cynics.

S: I'm not a cynic, but I am shivering at the image of a smiling Bruce going around and killing people with hugs. It makes for an amazing horror movie idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with more fun and angst!
> 
> I don't know anybody who could pretend as convincingly as Lex that losing his boyfriend to his ex was part of a well-oiled conspiracy. I wonder why I enjoy writing twisted personalities this much...
> 
> The title of this work is taken from an Elvis Presley's song.
> 
> For those who do not how the Batfamily chat works, here are the equivalence of the names:
> 
> N= Nightwing (Dick Grayson)  
> R= Robin (Tim Drake)  
> RR= Red Robin (Damian Al Ghul)  
> RH= Red Hood (Jason Todd)  
> S= Spoiler (Stephanie Brown)  
> BB= Black Bat (Cassandra Cain)  
> O= Oracle (Barbara Gordon)  
> A= Alfred Pennyworth (himself)  
> C= Catwoman (Selina Kyle)-does not often appear in the batchat
> 
> When other characters send messages or when the above characters talk about them, here are their names (they are not using the batchat themselves!)
> 
> LL= Lex Luthor  
> B= either Bruce Wayne or Batman  
> CK= Clark Kent (Superman), although they sometimes use S (not to be confused with S for Spoiler)  
> LL= Lois Lane (only the context distinguishes her and Lex Luthor, she normally only texts Clark Kent so it should be obvious)  
> GA= Green Arrow (Oliver Queen)  
> JJ= J'onn J'onzz
> 
> maybe others...


	2. Disaster Preparedness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman patrols. The Justice League discuss their plan of actions. Very heavy on the disaster prepareness aspect. 
> 
> Not much else happens.

Tim normally liked patrolling with Batman.

With Damian as the newest addition to the team, it was a big transition.

Especially with Batman's parenting skills.

"Robins, are you in place?" Batman's voice came from the comms. 

"Robin is ready," Tim answered with the same succinctness. 

"Red Robin in place," Damian replied with haste as if responding to Bruce was a competition. The kid was annoyingly turning everything into a race. 

When Damian learnt Bruce read the three newspapers in the morning, he decided to read the same three with disdain. Since Tim read three different online newspapers (except for the Daily Planet), it became an all-out war of who could find the most incongruous news to throw at the other. 

Unfortunately for Tim, Damian was almost always winning as he was reading the Gotham Gazette. Tim had long since abandoned the idea of reading the newspaper as the news were ridiculous and more aimed at entertaining than informing. It was true most newspapers were around 80% accurate. Gotham Gazette was anywhere between 30% to 67% accurate and 40% relevant. Tim had calculated those rates over a three-year-long period. He could understand why Bruce would read it; leads to villains and perspective on Bruce Wayne, his business and his kids were important in this business. Still, Tim hated Gotham Gazette with a passion. When he was inheriting his family's fortune, one of the first things he would do is try to buy the place and get real reporters working there. 

It was sad the Daily Planet was better at describing the latest 'important' developments in Gotham. Except concerning the Wayne family's public appearances. In fact, Tim has ashamed his hometown newspaper was more of a gossip magazine than a newspaper. It seemed Gothamites didn't care to know about the latest villains or insanities. They seemed to prefer gossiping about Bruce's love or family life. Only just that morning the article about last evening's Lobo crashing the foundation on a flying motorcycle was barely mentioned, except to insinuate Lex was Bruce's valiant knight and hero. Superman's and Flash's appearance at the scene was also skimmed over. That was the Gotham Gazette in a nutshell.

"Where is he?" Batman growling voice resounded in Tim's comm. 

Bane laughed, "How should I know? I'm Bane. I don't work with crazy jesters."

It seemed true from his tone. Or he didn't know he was working for Joker. That too was possible, Tim thought from his perch. 

Yet again, their sources were wrong about the Joker's whereabouts. Tim wondered how Joker could send this much misinformation swirling in town without anyone seeing him. 

Something was wrong. Joker was not known for providing misinformation like this. He might distract them or misdirect them; never had he seeded misinformation about his activities. This would be analyzed in further details later, Tim decided. Now was time to arrest villains. 

As Robin heard his mentor start a fight with Bane, his own body moved into action, knocking out two distracted men. "They're here!" someone screamed. 

One of the first thing you learned doing as Robin was how to run and hide. Bruce would never have left you to enter the field otherwise. 

"Learning how to retreat is not a shameful thing," Batman had quietly told him when Tim had complained he wanted to learn to fight a long time ago, "The first thing you need to learn is that there are beings stronger and more powerful than you and me in all ways that matter in a fight. The only edge you ever have against a superpowered being is your experience and your preparation. Hence, surviving a fight is paramount to later victories."

Tim had learned how to melt into the shadows and wait for the right moment before striking again. The element of surprise was always a good advantage when pressed correctly. 

Red Robin, on the other hand, almost hated retreating more than his own life. Tim had to admire the boy's deadly efficient motions although he understood Bruce's unsaid but obvious anxiety with Damian's hate of 'cowardice'. 

Robin finished cleaning up his section," South and West all clear."

"North and East also. I'm almost at Batman's location." Tim might have imagined the arrogant tone of Red Robin's voice, but he sincerely doubted it. Robin hurried along. 

"I'll finally crush your head," Robin heard Bane taunting Batman. He heard a hard crash. I hope nobody except Bane is hurt, he could not help wish as he usually did. A part of him wished the aggravating Red Robin will be hurt enough to push him off his high horse without long-term damages. 

Robin turned the corner and took in the sight of Bane holding Red Robin by his neck while Batman had closed in for close ranged fighting. 

Tim threw his batarangs to further distract Bane, especially since he was deadly in close range. Red Robin was thrown his way and Tim helpfully caught him and rolled with him to lower the damages. 

There was a mild explosion and Bane lay unconscious on the floor. 

"Are you okay?" Batman's voice rumbled nearer Robin than he was expecting. 

Damian stood up, pushing Robin away, "I'm fine. I'm too tough to be taken out by such a vulgar display of strength." 

Tim was annoyed by the ungrateful brat's reaction. It was clear from his Batman knowledge accumulated over years of observation that Bruce was extremely worried about his biological son's wellbeing. Otherwise, he would have secured the villain before enquiring about a partner's health. It was rational to neutralize any sign of danger before taking care of casualties. Unfortunately, Damian had no idea Batman was worried to death about him and he was acting as if this was a bragging contest. 

"You should thank me for distracting him," Red Robin shamelessly said. 

Robin knew better than to brush aside Batman's visible concern with arrogant statements. It was clear to him it would reinforce Batman's idea a reckless kid had no place on the battlefield that was Gotham's night. 

"That was reckless and stupid," Batman intoned. Tim knew this disapproving tone. He had been on the receiving side of it so many times before. 

Red Robin opened his mouth to contest his father's statement."We'll talk about it later," Batman cut him off, "Now, we should clean up the place. Police will be coming along soon enough."

Red Robin, Robin and Batman secured the villains and went to the Batmobile. Damian, who was normally in a hurry to shotgun the passenger seat beside his Father, was skulking in the back seat. Typical kid behaviour, Tim thought with a satisfied internal grin. 

As they entered the Batcave, Batman sent Tim a subtle glance meant to send him to check on the other operatives of the Batfamily, probably so he could talk to Red Robin without embarrassing him further in front of Robin. 

That had been one of the first lessons Bruce had seemed to learn since Damian had invaded the place: never ever chastised either Damian or Tim in front of the other. Damian would act smug in front of Tim if Bruce had reproached him something and Tim couldn't help sending I-told-you-so glances in Damian's direction when he was being corrected. 

"Oracle, this is Robin. Red, Batman and I have successfully captured Bane. Joker is not working with him," Tim told the computer after pressing a few keys. 

"Robin," Oracle answered, "The police have managed to get Bane to Arkham Asylum without incidents. I'm still trying to catch whoever is sending rumours about Joker."

"Any clues?" Tim asked, truthfully curious. 

There was a pause, "Not much. Nobody can describe any physical person having started it. My hunch is that someone is using other means to pass the information although I can't find anything on my network." That said a lot to Tim. Oracle's network was top notched. There was a reason Batman relied on her expertise for the most advanced security management of his security system. 

"Does that mean they are not using the internet?" Tim responded, trying to get an angle on whoever was spreading the rumours. 

"Maybe. It might be old-fashioned communication. Or they might have found a way to play my network."

"We all know this is almost impossible," Tim replied.

"Robin, our technology, even mine, is ancient compared to other worlds'," Oracle's amused dry tone answered. 

"Do you have reason to suspect it is part of some alien's plot?"

"No, but the possibility exists. We have opened a whole new Pandora Box."

True, thought Tim, Earth is slowly getting known in the rest of the worlds. Although, it was highly unlikely someone from another world would spread rumours about Joker.

"The technology might be alien," Oracle answered as if she could read his thoughts, "but the perpetrator is human. At least, that is my deduction." 

"That is a possibility worth exploring," Robin answered, "I should let you return to your work. Bye Oracle." 

He hung up as a mad looking Red Robin removed his costume in rage-filled movements before storming upstairs. Better not to talk to him for a while, Tim wisely reasoned. 

"Tim," Bruce addressed him, "I have a Justice League meeting to attend. Is there any progress on Oracle's part to find who spreads the rumours?"

"Negative, Batman," Robin answered. Batman nodded distractedly at that. 

"Before you go, Stephanie asked me to help her infiltrate an abandoned warehouse where there was suspicious behaviour," Tim pursued.

Batman nodded, "Be careful. Don't stay out too late and remember to call in Oracle on your status. I'll be checking in with her when I come back." Of course, you will, Tim thought, you always do that. 

"No problem," Robin dutifully answered although he was vexed Batman was treating him like a kid. Maybe Damian's presence and recklessness made him second-guessed having teenagers running outside looking for trouble with criminals. 

***

Hal hated meetings with a passion. You would think the meetings with the army in which he could not speak would be the worse. You would be wrong. 

League meetings were far worst. 

In the army, you could get think of more pleasant things. League members, on the other hands, were expected to participate and contribute. Moreover, the army was organized and followed the agenda with aplomb. The League? They would veer into subjects oft unmentioned beforehand and they would start discord in the room. Especially if Batman was present. 

The rare times Batman would attend a full meeting, he would abhor the waste of his time with useless distractions. Which was why Hal and Ollie often made bets on who could annoy him faster. Flash sometimes won without meaning to. Hal had tried to study his brilliant tactic of going from one subject to another without transitions and without it being on the agenda. Flash's style was decisively his own. Hal couldn't imitate it as convincingly. 

So far today, Batman had only blandly forced the conversation back to the agenda. It seemed he was not in the mood to either storm away or berate whoever was making this last forever. 

"It would be best to revise our plans for the aliens visiting or attacking this planet," J'onn reasonably brought up the next point in the agenda. 

"Agreed," Batman answered, "we are so far behind schedule in installing our lines of defences we might not see a threat soon enough to counter it."

"What kind of lines of defences are you thinking about? The Watchtower is placed to respond to those threats and we are updating our system with the help of the technology information Green Lantern, Superman and you have brought back from your trip to Hinrin. What more are you planning? We are not starting wars with other nations and we need to concentrate our resources on helping Earth fight its own brand of evil."

Batman stared at her as if she was the stupidest person he had ever met. Normally, that gaze was aimed at Green Lantern, Green Arrow or Flash, not at the Princess. Hal knew he should have brought his popcorn. The Amazonian Princess was not one to let an Alpha male insult her like that. 

"You can't be seriously asking that question," Batman asked with a tone that showed his lack of patience with an undeserving idiot. Popcorns, Hal reminded himself. Time for the Princess to beat up the irritant man. 

As Diana stood up, fury in her eyes, Superman put a hand on her arm and turned to Batman, "Batman, don't insult members of the League. It is unprofessional."

"As much as not reading any of the summaries I have provided everyone with this portion of this meeting concerning the fate of the world?" Batman answered with aplomb. The tension was rising quickly in the room. 

Unfortunately for Hal's fix of drama, J'onn had the good sense to interject something, "Batman, I am sure you understand Diana has been quite busy working in diplomacy in the last week and a half and has barely slept between fighting giant water creatures and negotiation peace agreements. There is no need to insult her. I suggest you describe the main points of your presentation." 

Batman started his presentation with one last glower at Diana, "For those of you my simplified summaries were too hard to understand." There was a pause here for dramatic effect. Hal hadn't read anything and he was pretty sure Arthur hadn't either. Of course, Diana was the one on which Batman would get fixated against since she normally read everything. Batman probably saw this as a personal insult. 

Too bad Batman and Wonder Woman hadn't started a physical fight. Hal had looked too much to someone 'friendly' beating Batman to a pulp and Superman had too much restraint as a team leader to do it. 

"...other organizations, secret or not, are also trying to take advantage of the situation," Hal's mind registered part of Batman's discourse.

"And what are those organizations?" Arthur asked, sounding interested. Hal's interest perked at that, hoping Batman would get into a fight with Aquaman. Hey, if Wonder Woman does not want to, Arthur can do a pretty good job too.

"I listed them in the appendix three of my summaries. Some of them are a legit organization with mildly dubious intentions. Others are evil organization bent on world domination. To facilitate your understanding, I included charts of their importance based on their financial, manpower and intelligence factors. I also included how legit their interest in protecting our planet from aliens is," Batman intoned.

Superman interjected, "I have had the chance to read it thrice through and I am impressed the level of completeness. I do have a question about one organization, though."

Batman nodded in encouragement and Superman continued, "The Wayne Entreprise, Lexcorps and Queen Industries alliance on their newest project is rated the top level of importance but is deemed completely legit." 

"Which one are you contesting?" Batman indifferently replied.

"Lex Luthor's involvement. He is rarely on the completely legit side," Superman answered without pause. 

Batman leaned back, "Do you doubt he wants to stop an alien invasion of Earth?"

"No."

"Then, it is legit. The dangerous nature of Lex Luthor means that he might use this alliance as a stepping stone to pursue world domination. It does not mean he will not contribute resources and intelligence in an alliance to protect this world from others."

Superman looked uncomfortable with Batman's explanation for some reason or another even though it sounds logical enough for Hal. 

"As I was saying, before being sidetracked by your questions," Batman continued unimpeded, "world protection should not be limited to one line of defence. The Justice League should not be the only means of defence for obvious reasons."

"Which are?" Green Arrow asked seriously, clearly interested in the presentation's subject for once. 

"Our lack of manpower, financial power and 'rights' to interfere. Besides, most of us lead a busy life in our civilian identity. We save people in our town, or in the world from natural catastrophes, villains and aliens. Our resources are already stretched thin as it is. We are now at the dawn of the age of unrivalled technology advancement and exploration. Earth is on the edge of disaster on so many levels, I do not even think I come close to enumerating all new dangers threatening our world as we know it."

There was a thoughtful silence meeting Batman's catastrophic announcement pronounced in a completely even tone of voice. 

"Wait. How are we on the edge of disaster? Isn't this more of a unique opportunity for humankind?" Flash asked, confused. 

Batman's eyes turned to him, "Metaphorically speaking, we are the Incas meeting the Spanish in the sixteen century."

Diana blinked at the reference, "What does that even mean?" 

"Simply put," Green Arrow replied, "Batman is saying we are in trouble. We are clearly outmatched in weaponry and technology; new diseases might wipe us up since we have built no immunity to common alien diseases and it is easy to take advantage of human rivalry to encourage us to commit genocides against each other. Have I missed anything?" He asked looking at Batman. Ollie sure knew how to sound smart once in a while, Hal thought.

"The gold. Different species of aliens may be attracted to a resource found on Earth, important or not to us, and we will have to defend it. I won't even talk about slavery, beliefs they may try to impose on us or the destruction of our environment and resources," Batman continued in the same bored tone. Flash swallowed hard at that statement. Poor kid, Hal thought, to have to take Barry's burden and find it this heavy this quickly. 

"And this is the result of letting in intergalactic tourists?" Diana asked. 

"It is a combination of factors," the bat vigilante continued, "We have been 'discovered'. The Green Lantern Corps chose a human Green Lantern for the first time ever a few years ago. The last Kryptonian was found on Earth and his interventions in other worlds have been noted. The last Martian is presently residing on Earth. This is even discounting any League mission on other planets or worlds. Aliens are finding their way to Earth oftener than four years ago. Earth was a backwater spot nobody wanted to see. It has now become a place of 'free' resources and exciting discovery."

"Besides," the black-masked man pursued, "From Green Lantern's reports, it is clear alien technology has accelerated transportation technology and found better space routes, especially in this area of the galaxy."

"In short," Superman concluded after a moment a silence, "we are in trouble if we don't put adequate safeguards in place to defend our turf."

J'onn nodded pensively, "It is one way of seeing this crisis. It is also an opportunity for humankind's growth and wisdom."

"What makes you think humankind can ever grow up? From what I have seen, we are still kids playing with guns," Green Arrow grinned in a half-serious manner.

"Or bows for those of us who are backwards," Hal chipped in. Green Arrow smiled at him in a mischievous manner. 

"If this is such a crisis, why haven't we made a press conference on the matter or raised the issue with the United Nations?" Diana responded. 

"Simple," Green Arrow leaned back in his seat, making himself comfortable, "We have to present a plan or we will only create more panic. Moreover, most organizations enumerated in Batman's summaries's appendix have started their own plan of action. It is not as if we are starting from scratch."

"ButalotofthoseorganizationsdonotalegitconcernofdefendingEarthaccordingtoBatman'sannotation!" Flash replied. 

"That is why we have to establish a plan of action that involves us dealing with the other organizations," the Justice League fearless leader replied. "Batman did seem to address the issue at length". He looked at Batman, seemingly at loss of words midthought. 

"Yes, we should establish a protocol for dealing with those organizations. They may be assets or liabilities depending on how we deal with their implications. They may steal technology, diseases or aliens for their own benefit or they may provide us with the manpower, intelligence and 'right' to interfere," Batman continued. "The most urgent segment we should install is the biology's and physics' s section overseer as none of us are experts in those fields and it would take only one disease or one bad physic's reaction to wipe humankind."

"I'm assuming you have a head in mind for both sections," Black Canary said, finally speaking for the first time since the start of the meeting.

"I had thought the Atom as the physic's head would be a reasonable choice," Batman explained. 

"He is a good man, dedicated to making the world a better place," J'onn quietly agreed.

"He is a great choice," Black Canary responded. 

"A true gentlemen," Superman agreed. 

"I do not know him well, but it seems everyone here lavishes him in praises. Maybe I should directly ask the question. Is there anyone against his nomination?" Wonder Woman asked the room. Nobody raised any issues. 

"Who should ask him to fulfill that stressful role?" the ever-pragmatic Green Arrow asked. 

"As the team leader, I am more than ready to do it," Superman replied. 

"And your recommendation for the head specialist in biology, more specifically the diseases and immunity system specialist would be?" Black Canary asked Batman. 

"I'm still vetting a candidate," the vigilante responded, "I should be able to give a name at the next monthly meeting."

"Oh. So, are you really planning on starting to attend the mandatory meetings on a regular basis?" Green Arrow taunted him. 

Batman glared at him, "Normally, it is a real waste of my time. Unfortunately, I have analyzed the Justice League is the best starting point for the implementation of this plan, which means I will have to deal with every member no matter how repulsive or slow they are." His gaze did not wave away from Green Arrow, however, it was certain Batman meant most of the members.

There was an awkward silence followed by Hal's first question of the night, "Are you really f***ing using the Justice League as a tool for your little projects?"

Batman shrugged, "I try to save the world with the means I have been given. My personal preferences on the matter make no difference."

You could disagree with someone but telling them to their face they were used by you for technical reasons was hateful; Hal's anger flared. 

"You are an antisocial and emotionally constipated vermin-wearing jerk!" Hal had wanted to throw that insult for the longest time. He had saved it for a special occasion. Now, was the perfect time to use it, he thought as his hands banged on the table. 

Batman didn't even react to his outburst. He simply changed the projection of his presentation and looked to see if anyone else had something to add. 

Superman rose, "We've been at it for a while. I propose we take a half an hour break to eat something."

"I second the motion," Black Canary interjected before anyone else could worsen the situation. 

Hal observed Batman's normal stance, Diana's angry hand clenching, Green Arrow's furrowed brows, Flash's nervous tapping, J'onn's saddened gaze, Dinah's furtive glance his way and Superman's glance in Batman's direction. 

The pilot stormed off the room to cool off in his room. He had been lifting weights for fifteen minutes when Flash knocked on the door, "Green Lantern?"

"Yes?" Hal rolled his eyes.

"CanIcomein?"

"Sure."

Flash gently opened the door and closed it behind himself. He turned to Hal and fidgeted with his hands.

"Just say it. I shouldn't have lost my temper. I should have been professional."

"You were right." Flash interrupted. He removed his cowl and looked at him, "Batman should not have said what he said."

Hal quirked an eyebrow at the redhead, "And?"

"But he is making an effort..."

Hal stared at the kid examining the floor, "Making an effort at what?"

"At being more social?" Wally asked more than stated. 

Hal closed his eyes and rubbed his eyes, "You will have to be more specific with describing his efforts because I don't see any signs of improvement."

A minute or two passed (an eternity for a speedster), when Wally finally responded, "He came to the Flash museum opening and told me Barry would have been proud of me."

Hal's eyes widened. Okay, the Flash museum opening participation was on him, but where was the compliment coming from?

"He is also injured," Flash added. 

"How do you know that?" Hal asked suspicious of the information.

"I heard Superman worry about some cracked ribs and other injuries to him earlier in the break."

"And what did Batman tell him?" Hal asked, intrigued.

"That it was nothing. That Superman should stop worrying about him. But Superman said it was impossible. He looked sad when he said it. When he noticed my presence, he seemed startled and mildly disturbed. He asked me if I wanted something with a forced smile. It was scary," Flash hesitated before adding, "Something has changed between those two."

No kidding, Hal thought, maybe Bruce Wayne did force them to acknowledge one another as Superman was without doubt passing through Gotham more often.

He really tried not to think back to Bruce Wayne and Superman but his mind couldn't help wondering if he had chosen the right path. 

"I've also wanted to check up on you," Flash interrupted Hal's thoughts. Hal wondered since when did he seem vulnerable enough to warrant the kid's intervention. Barry had asked Hal to take care of the kid, not the other way around!

Hal stood, "Fine. Let's go back." And they did. 

Everyone else was seated in their usual spot. 

As Hal sat down, Superman stood, "I would like to address the difference of opinion that happened just before the break. Batman, as a member of this team, you are asked not to relegate your team members to the status of tools for your design. We are a team, not a toolbox." Batman's face was still the same imperturbable mask.

"Green Lantern, next time you want to complain about anyone's behaviour, please remember to do so professionally. We are members of an organization dealing with the fate of the world. We should be humbled by our membership," Superman continued. Nobody made any comments. 

"If nobody has anything else to add, I will suggest one last item before we return to our plans to deal with the coming alien presence on Earth." Again, nobody commented, even though Hal really wanted to personally deal with Batman's arrogance. 

"It has come to my attention, through a failed attempt at kidnapping Bruce Wayne, that there are bounties out there for Green Lantern, Green Arrow, Superman, Wonder Woman, J'onn J'onzz, Flash as well as Bruce Wayne. It seems our contact for the United touristic federation who crashed on Earth used unauthorized footage of us to promote tours here. Lobo told me a collector has now put a bounty on us. I will urge you to be careful while in costumes," Superman said. 

"I would like to see them try," Wonder Woman smiled competitively. 

"I don't think they can catch me," Flash answered with a slight grin.

"I'll set more traps in Star City," Green Arrow replied. 

"As for you, Batman, could you keep an eye on Bruce Wayne? He is a civilian we got involved and I would rather he doesn't get hurt because of us," Superman requested in a shy manner. 

"You involved him in this matter. You are lucky he is too stupid to sue you and the Justice League over this. Nonetheless, I will keep an eye on him. He gets in so much trouble under normal circumstances, I gave his butler a special line to contact me," Batman answered almost petulantly. 

Superman chuckled at that. Did he just laugh at Batman?, Hal asked himself. Will this mean they will finally fight one another? 

Nope.

Batman only glared some more and resumed his presentation, "Before we return to our main topic, I will like to return to the nomination of heads in an area we are sorely lacking competence. I mentioned physics and biology, but there is another one everyone here except for Aquaman and Wonder Woman are weak against. I mean magic."

The vigilante paused, probably for added dramatic effect before continuing, "We are preparing for technology, physics and biology, but those worlds sometimes use magic. I would like to nominate Zatanna to the head of the magic section."

"She's a good choice," Black Canary interjected. 

"But isn't she super busy?" Hal intervened, "We could also put Constantine's name as a candidate. I like that guy."

"We are not putting Constantine in charge of anything," Batman growled back.

Oh. This is one of Batman's weaknesses, Hal thought wickedly. "What did he do? Spit on your cape?"

"Constantine is an irresponsible man. He is not fit to head people. He is not even fit to own a house," Batman rumbled aggressively.

"I have not met this Constantine, but he uses magic with some measure of competence, no?" Diana chirped in.

"Yes," a very reluctant Batman admitted, "When he doesn't make more trouble than he is worth." Hal thought that summed up Constantine's character pretty well. Now, he felt he had to contact Constantine just to ask him what he had done to Batman. It must have been impressive. 

"I can ask Zatanna if she could be our head of magic," Black Canary asked. 

"If you have difficulties, don't hesitate to ask for my help. She owes me a favour," Batman explained. Poor her, Green Lantern thought as he leaned back in his chair, she does not know what she had agreed to. 

"Finally, I would request Green Lantern's help in providing samples of the most common diseases and vaccines in the galaxy," Batman added with his head in Hal's direction.

"It is against protocol to offer information like that," Hal answered with his best in-your-face face. 

"Ask your superiors. I am pretty sure they will grant a request for basic immunization information for an at-risk planet," Batman stoically answered. 

He was probably right. Hal hated the fact that Batman was the one organizing them and that he seemed banged on with his impressions of everyone. 

Well, there was still that Constantine lead, he thought as the conversation veered into discussions of alien technology or knowledge contrabands that were bound to happen.

***

R: The warehouse is quiet. 

S: Suspiciously so. Nothing in Gotham is this quiet.

BB: Backup?

R: Hang around. We don't need it now, but we might. 

S: Ready?

R: Yes. 

(a few minutes later)

BB: R? S?

R: We're fine. 

S: They are not. Disturbing. Why would anyone do that to anyone else? 

BB: Do?

S: Slice them open and leave them hanging to die in horrible suffering. 

BB: Help?

R: It is too late for anyone to help anyone there. 

BB: Who?

R: They were former Joker's henchmen. The ones that survived Joker's reign. 

S: They were horribly tortured. 

BB: Who?

R: I don't think it was the Joker. Whoever did this was looking for information but didn't know his henchmen know nothing whatsoever about his whereabouts. They don't usually do. 

S: It is probably a "new" villain. Great. We needed one more to fill the rogue gallery. 

R: A few died more than a month ago. 

S: Yeah, but RR killed them pretty painlessly. These guys were not. 

R: You are sure it is not...?

S: It is not RR. I am pretty sure he is not quite that sadistic. 

BB: Not RR. Trying. 

R: We need to find this new player before things get more out of hand. 

S: Yup.

BB: On it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Be prepare for everything" should be Batman's motto. It is most definitely not "Be nice with your allies".
> 
> Sorry if this chapter bored you out of your mind. It is more of a setting up chapter. I bet you can all guess who Batman thinks should be in charge of the biology 'defence'. 
> 
> I always thought the canon Justice League response to alien's invasions, diseases and other intergalatic issues was too improvised and without resources. The Justice League should be more organized than that especially if Batman is part of it.


	3. Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things change. Some don't.

The biggest organ in the human body, the skin, was also the easiest to touch and break.

Clark's Ma and Pa had often given him hugs to reassure him when he was feeling isolated or scared. His Pa had smelled like dry soil and loose leaves while his Ma smelt like the cinnamon pie and apple fritters. Most people would not think the dry leathery texture of their skin could be comforting, but it had been for Clark a gentle reminder cultivating love was hard like the backbreaking work his parents did in the fields of their farm. It was an honest and highly dedicated work.

Clark had not been honest while striving for his love. He was becoming the farmer who, lazily, had delayed the harvest until everything had gone rotten.

At least, that was how he felt lying back in his bed in the Fortress of Solitude with Bruce cuddling to him. He wanted the man to sleep there, comforting him with his heat and damaged skin, however, Clark knew Bruce wouldn't. Because Clark had told him this was casual. Because there were too many unresolved things between them.

As if Bruce had heard him think, he stirred and looked at Clark with his old soul's eyes, "What are you thinking about?" he asked with a teasing edge, one hand roving Clark's chest.

Clark smiled back, "You."

"Oh? And what exactly are you thinking of me?" the other man gave him an amused look.

There was too many wrong answers for Clark to respond honestly. He took the coward's route, "I can't imagine you being a farmer."

Bruce grimaced at that, "Why would I want to become a farmer if I can sleep with one?"

Clark quirked an eyebrow at that, "I'm a reporter."

"Sure you are," Bruce's hand was writing or drawing something invisible on Clark's chest.

"I can report on you."

"Wouldn't that be a breach of ethics?" Bruce playfully responded. 

There it was. For some reason or another, they could banter around, yet it took only one well-meaning joke to make Clark feel bad. Why couldn't there be an easy answer to his dilemma?

Bruce must have sense Clark's change of mood because his playful mood retreated into his business mood as he took off the hand from Clark's chest, "I should go."

Clark knew by heart Bruce's answers for why he was departing. Batman's duty and Bruce's children. It was almost always those two.

Clark felt even guiltier than earlier for chasing Bruce's good mood away.

The first time they had met up like this, Clark's fulfilling his needs and testosterone-filled thoughts were the priority after Bruce's safety. However, each time he slept with Bruce, the more the focus would shift even with his puberty-oriented mind. The reporter started memorizing Bruce's reactions to sex. Then, the focus turned to the afterglow.

It was quickly noted by Clark that Bruce's guards dropped after a good session of sexual activity. He appeared sincerely in love with Clark. It made it harder for Clark not to feel guilty he had asked this to be a casual relationship.

The younger looking Bruce would tease and act playfully until his more reserved and rational mood would take over, abruptly cutting away his own pleasure.

Yet, those glimpses of a relaxed and contented Bruce stole Clark's breathe away. That Bruce was a picture of nonchalance. He looked a whole human, especially compared to the emotionally cut-off Batman and deeply hidden antisocial Bruce Wayne.

He looked like the man Clark thought he was falling in love with.

And Clark felt guiltier he couldn't decide what tact to take. If Bruce was sincerely in love, Clark was being unfair to him. If Bruce was not in love with him and this was all an act, Bruce was being unfair to Clark.

Clark wanted so badly to believe this image was the truth, unfortunately, the small voice named Kal in the back of his head would insist that he was being played by a shimmering mirage, that Lex and Bruce were conspiring together against him to break his heart. The voice reminded him how astray his heartbreak with Lex had led him. This one might finish breaking Clark's heart completely.

Still, no matter what reason said, Clark's heart wanted that man here with him, "Don't go, Bruce," he softly pleaded in a tone he knew made Bruce weak.

Bruce wavered between being the man without care and the duty-pressed man. Clark slowly took his hand to his mouth and gently kissed it. He could feel Bruce's heartbeat go faster, his eyes dilate and his hesitation pushed away.

"Stay," Clark requested as he gently pulled Bruce to sit on his lap as he himself sat up. The man put his arms around Clark's neck, "Only five minutes. I really have to go after."

"Then, let's make it count," the naked reporter said as his arms went around the other man's body. Bruce smiled languidly at that, his two legs sticking to each side of Clark's torso.

"Still hungry for more? You are insatiable," Bruce's voice purred. He pressed himself against Clark's chest, seemingly trying to become Clark's new clothes.

"I'm always hungry for you," Clark flirtatiously responded and realized it was true while he was saying. It took him a moment to realize his particular hunger this time."But we don't need to have sex. I'd be happy just sitting here like this for a moment longer," he continued more seriously.

"So would I," Bruce answered in Clark's neck in a relaxed tone, as if the way their bodies were melded together was a comfortable position. Bruce's soft breathing against Clark distracted him from his arousal. Clark caressed Bruce's back, taking in the indentations left by scars and burns a human could accumulate while doing Batman's work. His fingers passed over each mark, memorizing each crater like he had with the moon. 

Most people thought the moon was beautiful because it was perfectly round. They weren't Superman who could actually visit the mass of rock orbiting around Earth. In Clark's opinion, the moon was exquisite because those craters made her seem filled with an history, filled with mystery oft forgotten by mankind. The artistic side of his mind admired the poetic storytelling animated on the moon.

On Bruce, though, those indentations were proof of Superman's failure as a superhero. It was a reminder it only took one unlucky bullet, one madman too clever or unpredictable enough to eliminate this man. It only took one misstep for him to fall to his death.

"Don't," Bruce muttered.

"You don't want me to caress you?" Clark asked, perplexed. Bruce had never shown any issues with being touched by him before now.

Radiant blues eyes turned to him, "Don't think bad things, Clark. Let's just savour the moment."

Even when relaxed, Bruce had the tendency of reading the reporter's mind. He must have felt Clark's body tensing at the thought of losing him to violence or just trying to imagine all the pain Bruce had suffered to get here today. He had not grown practically invulnerable like Clark had. He was human. A strong-willed human who would get in trouble. Who could break to pieces under less than 1% of Clark's strength.

His skin was damaged under Clark's unmarred one. Love. Pa and Ma had been tending the fields and their bodies showed the proof of it. Bruce had been trying to stop crimes and his body showed proof of it. Clark had been tending fields all his younger years. He had attended to stopping crime. His body was smooth like a newborn, unchanged by anything physical. 

He had wanted to be a farmer like his father before him. Pa had shaken his head, "Son, I'm sorry, you are destined to do more than tend a small part of the land." It had been true. Sometimes, he still regretted not being a small farmer in the middle of Kansas.

"Clark," Bruce's voice cut off Clark's introspection session.

"Yes?" Clark realized he was squeezing Bruce against him as if he was the one who needed protection. He didn't relax his grip.

Strong hands patted Clark's back, soothing him, "We can use the blue Kryptonite next time if you want."

Clark concentrated in feeling Bruce's calloused hands touching him, "Didn't you say I shouldn't yearn to be normal?" To his own ears, he sounded like a chastised child.

The other man sighed, "Clark, we can't be normal. It doesn't mean we can't role-play it once in a while."

The reporter felt the warmth and strength under his hands. A quote from one of his favourite author came back to mind, "Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars."

Clark had no physical scars. Bruce had too much and there was nothing Clark could do to stop it.

"Maybe we could," Clark finally said.

Bruce nodded, "I have to go check on my kids now." 

After the League meeting, Batman had gone back somewhere to reappear as Bruce Wayne in the Fortress of Solitude to join Clark for an hour or so. That was their usual model of doing things. Only Bruce had this kind of relationship with Clark; Batman was more distant and reclusive. 

Probably looking for Superman's weaknesses, Kal's voice murmured. Clark shook his head, "Go ahead. Next time... Could you stay longer?"

Bruce's face turned to consider in all seriousness the question, "What are you thinking of exactly?"

Clark swallowed, "I'd like to get to actually get to know you, not just fall into bed for some sex." He might have imagined the soft glow of the other's man face, yet, he hoped he had not. 

Bruce leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, "I'll see what I can do." Clark could swear there was a hint of pink on his cheeks.

As he watched the businessman dressed and went, Clark's heart thank his courage for asking for more. There was so much more he wanted to create with Bruce, his liaison had to become a real lover's relationship. Then, he could imagine flying with Bruce under the soft moonlight in faraway lands. It would be perfect, he thought, as he leaned back and closed his eyes to envisioned it further. 

***

Selina Kyle wouldn't go as far as thinking herself a good person, but she had no doubts she was a good friend. 

And an opportunist. 

So, when Lex Luthor walked into his office to see her seated on his desk and drinking leisurely his favourite alcohol, she capitalized on the moment to take a photo of his outraged face. 

"I'm calling security," he snarled.

She responded confidently, crossing her legs, "Do you want a drink? This stuff is surprisingly good," she offered him his own alcohol.

With one last good glare, Lex lifted the receiver of his phone. Catwoman smiled at him, not moving an inch from her comfortable perch. 

His phone wouldn't connect. He tried his cell phone. There was no connection. He glowered at her, "I hate you."

"Oh, the feeling is mutual, I am sure," She purred back, her relaxed tone a clear contrast with her words, "You did send Mercy to assassinate me for stealing from your rival on your order. That was mean."

"Only because I had engaged your services to do so and you stole from him, got paid and gave me a fake item," Lex retorted boiling anger in his tone. 

"I have pride in my work and you called me a 'sorry excuse for a professional'. I just had to steal from you after that," Catwoman swirled her glass in a seductive pose which was at odds with the meaning of her words. 

Lex rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Now, that this incident is cleared-up, what are you doing here?"

She smirked at him, "I have this friend who recently befriended an asshole and I have to make sure he does not end up being taken advantage of."

Lex froze at that. 

"Surprised he is my friend?"

"No," Lex snorted, "I'm more surprised he has friends."

Catwoman laughed delightfully at that, "So, you do know him well enough."

"Of course," Lex quirked an eyebrow at that. 

She turned a soft threatening smile at him, "Don't mess him up."

Lex glared at her, "It would be hard to mess him up more than he already is."

Her smile widened at that, "It is, isn't it? Don't mess him up more than he already is. It is a simple enough request." 

Lex continued glaring at her, "You invaded my office in the middle of the night, cut my lines of communications and stole alcohol, just to threaten me not to take advantage of him? I do believe he can defend himself."

Her eyes gleamed dangerously at that, "Emotionally, no, he can't. I didn't think your strange affinity would last over a month. You made me lose a bet, you know."

"Good," he answered, "Now, go away. I'm tired of getting harassed about him. Just take your concerns to him directly."

She narrowed her eyes, "You know him enough to know it would be completely useless. He is deaf to concern about him."

Lex glowered at her, "And threatening me is so much more useful? I know you do not kill."

"But I might be able to convince Mercy to murder you. She's probably bored of working for you anyway. I wouldn't blame her," Catwoman blinked back. 

He snorted at her, "Good luck convincing her. Now, scram. I have better things to do."

Catwoman strutted to the door, turned around and said, "And I might have stolen more than your alcohol. I had to make the trip worth it, after all." After that, she disappeared. 

Lex looked at the calm moonlight overlooking his city and he secretly blamed himself and Bruce for the trouble their association was bringing him. 

He was a businessman doing very sharp practices and had been a good supervillain, using all his means to achieve world domination, however, now that he had befriended Bruce, people looked at him as if he was much more dangerous than when he was trying to take over the world. 

Even Amanda Waller had shown interest on the subject of Bruce Wayne the last time they had spoken. 

Lex took a sip of his Scotch and let it burn his throat. What was he doing, he asked himself, getting involved with Bruce. It had to be his worst idea ever. 

Or the best? If people feared him more now than ever, it meant he had gained a certain unpredictability he had previously lacked. 

His befriending Bruce was a destabilizing move for everyone: villains and heroes. It changed the way things were done. It was high time they changed.

Lex sighed, his mind turning to more immediate concerns. He now had to have Mercy find what Catwoman had stolen this time. 

***

S: So, we make a team?

R: Yes. With BB, of course. 

Spoiler sends a message to Black Bat. 

Black Bat has connected. 

BB: Yes?

S: R and I are making a team to solve the three Mysteries of the month. Do you want to be on ours?

BB: 3 Mysteries?

R: 1) Where is Joker?  
2) Who is spreading Joker's name around? Who killed Joker's henchmen? Are the two of them connected?  
3) What are B and A hiding?

BB: 1 & 2 only

S: YOU KNOW!?!

R: How do you know?

BB: Secret.

S: Ooooh. Right. You promised either B and A to keep it silence. 

R: This, at least, proves they are hiding something. 

S: And that if we review tapes of BB's interactions with both, we might understand what they are hiding. 

BB: No. Tapes erased. 

R: Thanks BB. Are you on our team for the other two points?

BB: Other teams?

R: Apparently, and I don't know how they did it, but RH and N convinced RR to work with them. O is working alone as usual. Meaning she and Dinah are working on it. B is working on the first two. 

BB: In.

S: Thanks BB! 

BB: Anything more?

S: No. I'll see you at 3:00 pm at the waffle house again?

BB: Yes. 

Black Bat has logged out. 

S: Wow. She gave us a good starting point for 3.

R: Yes, we have to find all the times the tapes have been erased in the last period of time and compile then into a table. 

S: Let's get to it! We have to win this!

R: Why are you into it this time?

S: I made a special bet with RH.

R: What?

S: I can't say until the bet is over.

R: We should hurry, then.

S: Let's dig batmysteries!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter is a bit short and not exactly to my liking, but since I was busy and I won't post for the next two to four weeks, I really wanted to post something beforehand. 
> 
> I hope you still enjoyed it!


	4. Batbreakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A good breakfast and fascinating discussions. Nothing goes horribly wrong. 
> 
> That counts as a win, right? Right?

Steph liked seating at the Manor's table.

Most of the other parts of the Wayne house was barely lived in and would look perfect for a horror movie if Alfred could be convinced not to clean the dust, but the kitchen and the unofficial family table was one of the lived-in areas of the house. 

However, the best part of the kitchen and the dining hall was Alfred. 

Alfred who could cook anything at any hour. Alfred who liked anyone in the batfamily, but favoured those who enjoyed eating. Like Stephanie and Jason. Yup. Stephanie was one of his favourites and she was unashamed to take advantage of that fact of life.

"More waffles, Mistress Stephanie?" the butler politely inquired.

"Alfred, you know I can't resist it if you give me more and that I'll explode if you bake me any more of them. Can I kidnap you? The boys don't know how to appreciate you to your just value. I'll even let you borrow Snoozy."

Alfred gave a more personal smile as Tim glared at her, "You will be responsible for the death of Bruce, Cass and the Demon Brat." 

"Tim, you can cook for them. Alfred will enjoy some well-deserved vacation at my place. He would only need to cook for two," Steph answered with a smirk.

Tim shook his head, "More than half of the challenge is getting Bruce to eat something and I don't have the necessary authority to force him to eat."

She tsked him, "He'll have to survive in the wilderness that is adulthood. It's high time he grows up."

Alfred took away her plate, "I am afraid, Mistress Stephanie, that is not going to happen soon."

"You are too nice, Alfred," she smiled at him. He winked at her and left the room.

"Since you refused to speak business at the table and you finally finished eating, should we get into it?" Tim asked with impatience. 

"Oh, don't be grumpy, Tim or you'll end up like Batty."

He sighed and pushed forward his papers toward her, "I have made condensed reports of the three questions we have to resolve. Which one would like to tackle first?" 

"Well," she glanced uninterestedly at the papers, "the batfamily's personal problems are always more fascinating than any villains, but I guess the other two points are more urgent."

"They are," Tim added, "although Bruce's behaviour is truly worrying."

"You mean the humming?"

"Not only that. I tabled all the times he has gone missing for which it is unaccounted and he is missing over five hours worth of time over the last five weeks. Something important is going on," Tim explained as his index tapped the table. 

"Ooooh, that's sweet. You're worried about daddy," she teased as she leaned forward. He stopped his finger's movement and looked insulted. 

"Steph," he used 'that' tone. The one that meant she was stepping on a landmine again.

She loved doing that.

"Well, you prefer talking about the person who hacked over all those henchmen?"

"Is that what you are doing here?" another voice cut in. 

Steph and Tim glanced at the newer arrival and recognize Jason standing in a used leather jacket.

"What are you doing here?" Steph asked with interest.

"Can't I come visit Alfred?" he grinned back.

"Sure. But, you rarely do so when Bruce is not in heat," Steph replied with gleaming eyes.

Jason scratched his head as he warily strode in, "I have other matters that need taking care of."

"You came because you hate losing and you don't fully trust Demon child to get the clues," Tim arched an eyebrow.

"More like Dick found ways to annoy me until I came to do my part of the work. I can't believe Barbara actually listened to that idiot," Jason lazily explained. He snatched the papers from under Steph's hand and quickly skim them over. 

"Hey. That's mine!" Tim looked upset. Steph didn't particularly care one way or the other. Jason ignored him as he threw away sheets after he was done with them. 

Then, he stopped at the one with the colourful chart, "You did a chart of all the times the old man was missing in the past five weeks? I didn't know you were this creepy, Replacement. Thanks for letting me know."

"It is not creepy," Tim replied while his face furrowing at Jason, "it is a simple precautionary measure to ensure the relative safety of everyone linked to our line of work. There is enough risk, as it is, associated with what we do, without adding information leaks or mild miscalculations on any of our parts. Anyone's individual mistake is liable to put all of us at risk. Which is why I follow up on any security risk possible in the batfamily."

Jason stared at him, then, he turned to Steph while pointing to Tim, "Does he know how creepy he sounds?"

Steph shook her head emphatically, "I don't think he does."

Jason nodded with a (fake) wise look plastered on his face, "Is there some way to help him figure it out?"

"We can try to do the same until it creeps him out?" Steph helpfully proposed. 

"Steph! We are working together so don't take his side! Jason, you wear a full red helmet and guns to spring on drug dealers by surprise; you are the definition of creepy. I am sure if you walked in a playground, any parent would instinctively go to their kid's side to make sure you do not kidnap them. Between the two of us, I am not the creepy one."

"Oooh, nice one, Tim!" Steph offered her hand in a high five. Tim ignored her as his batbrother (that sounds so nice to Steph) and himself have a small staring contest. 

Finally, Jason chuckled out loud, "You really have guts, Replacement."

"You are both severely lacking in the intelligence department," a somewhat snarkish voice interjected. Of course, Damian would be here. 

"Really? Who was the one who accidentally started the Manor's alarms by hitting the wall with a sword?" Tim answered cuttingly.

Damian glared back. Before another fight could start, Alfred quietly indicated, "Need I remind either of you of the punishment facing anyone who destroys or damages anything in Master Bruce's kitchen?"

Damian and Tim hastily shook their heads.

"Good. Master Jason and Master Damian, are you both ready for your breakfast? I will bring it out momentarily."

Jason, who straightened himself at Alfred's appearance, dutifully replied, "Thanks, Alfred." He took a seat. 

Damian also took his, glaring all the while at Tim. 

Although Steph was always up for watching a fight, she did ask Tim to meet at his home and she didn't want any of the next meetings to be elsewhere because of 'interruptions'. Besides, four heads were better than two, right?

"So, Tim, what did Barbara find out about the Joker henchmen's murderer and the one flooding our information networks with misinformation concerning Joker's presence," Steph asked rather seriously.

Tim turned to her, "As noted in the pages I provided you, Barbara has mostly drawn negatives from her searches. There are no cameras in the warehouse where the massacre took place and no good view of whoever is coming in or out of it from the nearby cameras. We don't know whether it is an individual or a group, although Barbara believes the strikes were similar enough to be work of one person or at least trained in the same way. As for the henchmen, they are villains: nobody filed missing person reports of them. From her preliminary search, it seems one of them, at least, got out of jail this morning and was seen at noon in a local Mcdonald. She lost track of him around 17:30 near the warehouse area. It seems he had a meeting there. It is possible a message was given to him in jail to say where he should be going. He was also the longest survivor henchmen of Joker. He was most likely the chosen 'victim' of the murderer. The others were probably insurance to verify the truth. Unfortunately, Joker's henchmen never know anything of his whereabouts when Joker goes into hiding. Whoever murdered them didn't seem to know how Joker operates. The henchmen all died after being extensively tortured from the estimated time of 18:00 to midnight. That is all the information Barbara could gather since last night on the matter. She's checking up other venues."

Steph noted Jason's and Damian's profound interest in the matter. She inwardly smiled at the obvious resemblance between the batbros. They all liked a good puzzle.

"And the misinformation about Joker's whereabouts?" she prodded. 

Tim took a sip of coffee and went on, "There is not much Barbara could find on the matter, which is telling. It is either too high tech for her or too low tech. Either someone is discreetly operating by sending fake information near our information sources-which might mean they know how we collect our information- or they have acquired very high technology, probably from an alien source, for which our systems are not adequately trained to pick up. Barbara is working overtime on the matter."

"She is a prideful woman," Damian pipped in with a measure of respect. 

Jason had leaned back and crossed his arms, "Does that mean both incidents are connected? Are they both done by the same person or organization?"

Tim shrugged, "I don't know, but I have my theories on the subject." 

Steph wanted more information, "What is your most likely theory?"

"I believe they are the same organization. They are gathering information on Joker while sending us on wild-goose chase. Maybe the purpose of killing Joker's henchmen was to anger Joker out of hiding. He hates people playing on his territory like that. Not that he cares whether his followers die or not," Tim explained. 

"I'm not so sure about that," a deep voice finally broke the contemplative silence. 

Steph looked up in surprise. Bruce rarely made an appearance before noon during weekends and here he was wandering into this room before 10:30. 

"Bruce," Tim called out, uncertain how to continue. 

"What did you mean by that, Father?", Damian asked with some wariness in his tone. Steph believed he is still resentful or shamed for the scolding Bruce gave him last night. 

Bruce took place near Damian and Tim. He looked notably refreshed and well-disposed. Okay, something was definitively up with him, Steph decided.

Jason seemed to hesitate whether to start a fight, decamp or stay. Alfred made the choice for him by putting a tantalizing breakfast plate in front of him. There was no way Jason could leave it unattended, especially under Alfred's careful watch.

" I'll call the person or organization spreading misinformation as X and the murderer, M, to facilitate the explanation. The techniques employed by them are vastly different. While X is cleverly waiting his time while disrupting our operation, M is rashly rushing into a direct meeting with Joker. We know nothing about X, except that he or she, whoever it is, is patient, manipulative and knowledgeable. M, on the other hand, has made his move last night and we already have more information about the person or organization than X. It is only a matter of time until we find the exact murder weapon used in the warehouse. The police report will probably provide us with clues about M. It is my hypothesis that X is or will be using M in his aim. M's aim is to find Joker. For what purpose? Probably vengeance, because of M's methods, although I can't write off possible alliances or other cooperative projects. It is hard to say if M believe Joker has no problem losing his henchmen or not. As for X, I doubt his final aim is the Joker." 

Steph observed Bruce glaring at her before taking a healthy gulp of coffee. Even in a good mood, it seems he was still angry with Steph's suggestion to Damian about putting a bit of soap in the coffeepot as a prank against Tim. Of course, Bruce was the first one who took coffee that morning (Steph had the nagging suspicious he had taken coffee before going to sleep). Steph had no idea how Bruce knew she had contributed but he obviously knew. Oups. 

At least, Bruce wasn't forcefully evicting her or avoiding her. That counted as a win in her books.

The deep voice continued its analysis, "The most urgent precautions have to be taken against M. It is very likely that they will escalate things again if there is no answer from Joker. If Joker retaliates, it will also be dangerous. X, on the other hand, is most likely a mastermind bent on a specific plan of action. They will be harder to catch as they will probably continue to observe, from afar, the unfolding of his plan."

"So," Tim interrupted the silence following Bruce's comment, "their interest in Joker's whereabouts is only coincidental? I believe you told us over and over again, any coincidence is suspect. Here, we have two different entities that are seeking or misinforming us about the same villain."

Bruce nodded in agreement, "It is highly doubtful it is a coincidence."

"Father," Damian interjected, having finished his plate, "is it possible this X organization or person is using this M organization or person to their own advantage in order to spread more misinformation?"

"Distraction is most likely his specific purpose," Bruce solemnly answered, putting back his mug on the table with a soft thud. Damian and Tim eagerly listened to the man while Steph could see the disguised interest in Jason's eyes. Of course, his body language screamed his profound boredom at the conversation. 

It was Steph's understanding any one member of the Batfamily was deeply interested in Bruce's problem-solving techniques. Not only were they all passionately engaged on the cognitive level, they were also acutely aware this was where Batman's greatest detective's skills shone in all their brilliance. If Steph could follow his reasonings for crime-finding, she knew she would become a better hero and a more efficient one at that. She almost wanted to sigh; she really was as competitive as the rest of them.

Bruce continued, "It is a common practice used to blind your enemies. You feed them misinformation until they start to suspect their all their 'defective' sources of information. It will also permit some important pieces of information to pass under the radar. You also provide them with adequate and more urgent distractions in order to take them out by surprise. X is a dangerous adversary."

Steph noted everyone's serious face at that declaration. This was getting a bit too sombre to her liking. 

"Well," she said in louder than necessary voice, "Now, that your batdaddy has explained the problem, does that mean none of you batsons want to go swimming in the pool?"

She was on the receiving sides of shocked (well, for the batfamily, not for normal people; standards depended on the setting) glares as if 'batdaddy' and 'batsons' were extremely offensive vulgar words used in an ultra-conservative setting. Maybe it was. Using words in this Manor was akin to lighting Molotov cocktails and throwing them in a church. 

Except for Damian's obvious disdain at the use of the infantile 'daddy', the other members had all sort of repressed and confused feeling about paternity and filial affiliation. 

"What? Does that mean you emptied the pool?" Steph demanded in her most indignant voice. 

"Of course not, Mistress Stephanie. If you wish to take a swim, you are always invited. I believe Master Bruce wanted to tell everyone to be on their best behaviour this evening as Master Lex will be attending dinner. Apparently, Master Bruce has some business he has to attend with him tonight." Steph almost jumped out of her chair. She never got used to any of the inhabitant's disappearing and reappearing acts they pulled in their civilian identity. 

Tim turned to Bruce, an astounded look he couldn't entirely school, "You invited Lex here?" It was well-known (well, to Steph's knowledge at least) invitations had always been extended to him by either Alfred or Tim. Never Bruce himself. 

Bruce nodded, "Yes. I have some distinct League matter to attend with him."

"You are involving him in Justice League matters?" a disgruntled Jason growled out. 

The billionaire simply turned his eyes to him, "Yes."

"Are you fucking out of your mind! Did you forget what I told you last time? Or what happened?" Jason rose with his fists clenched on the table. 

Bruce cautiously evaluated his behaviour, "He might still be helpful."

"Really? Really!?! Have you gone mad, old man?" Jason roared, "Do you really want Tim to end dead this time?"

Bruce flinched at the accusation. 

"You are rather presumptuous, Todd. Father is using the man to better his position. It is easy to outplay lesser minded man," Damian flew to his father's defences, all figurative claws out. 

Before anyone could literally assault anyone, Alfred stepped in, "I rather think, Master Bruce, it is grand time for you and Master Jason to finally settle matters." He added, "And there is no time as perfect as now," after Jason gave him a betrayed look while Bruce gave him a hesitant one. 

There was tense silence until Bruce sighed and stood, "Jason, do you some time to talk?" 

Jason opened his mouth to say, in all likelihood, some derogatory comment, however, Alfred's subtle glare (how could Alfred smile politely and glare at the very same time? That was a mystery Steph would one day have to unravelled) stopped him. He glanced nervously at Alfred before silently nodding at Bruce. Both men headed in the private study reserved for occasions like this. Nobody else moved or said anything until they heard the door of the study close. 

"Alfred, I always you had powers, but," Steph whistled, "I had no idea you were this strong. Please teach how to do that!" 

Tim looked nervously in the study's direction while Damian crossed his arms in front of himself, "What a waste of my time."

Alfred politely nodded in Steph's direction, "I simply believed it was time they got their acts together. And, I would ask that none of you disturb them now even if you eavesdrop on what they say. They do need time to settle their differences." With that warning, he took all the empty plates and marched off. 

No one bothered to deny they would try eavesdropping and it was as well, for, the very second Alfred was out sight, Steph and Tim were getting into position while Damian 'accidentally' hedged closer. They were all aware the door was heavy enough to soundproof the room, nonetheless, their natural curious instincts had kicked in before they could fight against it. 

"Did you manage to put eyes in there?" Steph asked Tim.

He shook his head, "Bruce's defences are too good. He is really on guard now."

Damian sneered at them and exited after sending one last insult, "Pathetic. You cannot even bug one room."

Steph waited until he was out of earshot before she interrogated him further, "What do you mean, now? Is something special going on?"

"Someone is thoroughly investigating his past," Tim replied, his eyes on the door. 

"And you know this because...?"

"He asked me to help him filter the information accessible to the public."

Steph shoved her elbow at him, "So, you should know all his dirty secrets?"

Tim gazed at the closed door and swallowed as if a heavy burden had been laid on his shoulders, "No. There is not much available to the public."

"But?" she pressed, because, really, was there anything better for your entertainment than the Batfamily's awkward interactions and buckets of secrets?

"He is also acting weird."

"Who?" Steph asked, confused.

"Bruce. He forgot to put on his auditory control help today."

"His what now?"

Tim arched an eyebrow, "His auditory control." At her blank look, he continued, "You never noticed he had something in his ears as Batman and Bruce?"

"Is he deaf?" She answered, still confused.

"No, but he tended to get overwhelmed by loud noises when he was younger. That is information accessible to the public. He can manage without the auditory control, however, it seems he prefers to use it as to reduce the energy and concentration needed to compensate his issues with loud noises. I can't believe you don't know that."

She crossed her arms, vexed, "Well, I'm the rebellious girl who barges on his affairs all the time. Of course, he won't tell me."

Tim looked at her as if she was crazy, "He doesn't tell me that information. I have to look for it."

Steph knew why Tim was turning so paranoid. If the only way he could get genuine information about his adopted father was by researching like crazy, of course, he thought it was normal. Argh. She didn't even know where to began explaining how wrong it was.

"But there is something wrong with him..." Tim muttered.

"He is humming, forgetting his earing controls, happier all the time... Do you think it is possible he is in love with someone?", Steph suggested.

Tim stared at her in shock for a full ten seconds before he grabbed her shoulders, "Steph... You are a genius!"

"I am?" Steph was seriously confused.

"Why didn't I think of that?" Tim asked. Steph had her theories about that (something along the line of an inherited difficulty naming his own and other's happier feelings).

"Of course, he keeps letting him come over; seeks his company at any event they attend together; he forgives him for betraying him; he even invited him tonight! How didn't I see this before?"

"Whoa, whoa... Calm down Tim. Who are you talking about?"

"Lex. Of course it's Lex," Tim answered with some manic energy. 

Steph grimaced at that, "Are you sure? I thought it was only a strategy to gain info about Lex's illegal activities."

Tim froze.

"Something happened?" Steph leaned in.

"Well, not long before Lex betrayed Bruce, he was in the house early in the morning and he came from upstairs. I checked the videos and he had come in the morning to Bruce's room and that's the room he had come out in the morning. I thought nothing would come of it now that Lex had acted in a really untrustworthy way, but..."

"But the Bat might be too smitten to know how to react," Steph's oh-my-god-this-is-good-gossip voice practically squealed, "That idiot is in love!" 

Tim turned serious, "That means I should invest in more safeguards and review in more details our security risk. Bruce may be the security risk. He should know better than to fall in love."

Steph slapped the top of his head, "Stop your depressing theory! I am so coming here tonight!"

"Is that wise?" Tim asked while rubbing his head with an annoyed look on his face. 

"I am so filming this... League matters, my ass. He just wanted an excuse. Well, that makes it one question answered. We only need to find the other two." With that, Steph ran to the door. Tim was somewhat worried about her exuberance. Oh well, Bruce was starting to handle Damian. It should be fine.

***

O: N, do you know what happened with S? 

N: What do you mean?

O: She said she has resolved question number 3 with her team.

N: B's behaviour? I thought that would be the toughest question to answer.

O: Me too. 

N: Hum. 

O: I wonder if they found clues at the Manor?

N: We did force RH's hand to make him cooperate with RR. They should be able to unearth the same evidence, right?

O: Can they even talk together without starting a fight?

N: ...I haven't tested that theory yet.

O: ...

N: What? Everyone has to get along together.

O: So, that is why I had to hack his computer and make his alarm clock blare out James Blunt's 'You're Beautiful'?

N: Hey. That song is awesome!

O: Because RH hates it?

N: Yup! Hope RH and RR become good friends.

O: I like your optimism.

N: Thanks! That's one of my best quality!

O: Isn't it the only one?

N: O!

O: I was kidding. In reality, your ass is probably your biggest 'asset'.

N: O, that's harassment! And a bad pun!

O: Is it rather not an invitation?

N: Is it?

Oracle has disconnected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. 
> 
> 1) I really want to finish any work I start on this fanfiction web site.  
> 2) I also tend to start new works every once in a while (because new ideas don't stop flowing) and it is sometimes lenghtier than estimated (cough, cough, Blue Sky Anguish).  
> 3) Additionally, it is hard to post two works of over 4,000 words each week. 
> 
> In conclusion, I think there is something wrong with my current method, but I'm not sure what...? At least, it's fun?


	5. Confidants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discussions. Really, that's all.

Bruce sat down while Jason remained standing, his stance clearly ready to respond aggressively.

They looked at anything in the room except one another.

Jason had had enough of this silent game. He walked back to the door and Bruce called him, "Jason, can we talk?"

Jason sneered in Bruce's direction, "Are we actually going to talk or simply stare at this room?"

"...We can talk," The older man answered with some hesitation.

Jason leaned on the door and crossed his arms over his chest, ready to bolt or attack at once.

"Last time you spoke to me, it seems you actually had something to tell me," the older man continued.

The black-haired young man glared at him, "I did. But you didn't listen to me and you almost got Replacement murdered."

Bruce evaluated his son's behaviour. At least he was listening and responding to him.

"I did almost get Tim killed," the older man admitted, his head slightly bowed at the words he was scared of saying them out loud.

Jason snorted, "You sure did. And you didn't even change. You'll get him killed for real this time. You're one dramatic bi***, always waxing about your losses and always trusting bad people."

His father looked on, not even flinching at the accusations, but seemingly growing older with each of them, "That's your worry? That I'll get you all killed because I trusted the wrong people?"

"If you don't call that history repeating itself, I sure don't know what is,"Jason scoffed, eyes intent on the man who got all of them involved in the dangerous business.

Bruce interlaced his fingers in front of his torso, "Jason, I would rather avoid having any of you killed."

Jason chuckled impolitely, "That's rather ironic, isn't it, old man? I already got killed." It was easy to use Bruce's guilt against him.

The older man slowly nodded, "You died. You are alive again. I am not letting you die again."

"As if you can have the power to stop anything!" Jason answered, his arms going to his sides.

Bruce fixed his eyes on his son's figure, taking in each nervous movements of the younger man, "I'm trying to stop it."

"Stop what exactly? Villains from being villains? Talia and Lex from scheming? I thought Captain Superpants was the one with the unrealistic approach of everyone singing kumbaya around a nice fire," Jason continued, spite clear in his tone.

The older man shook his head in silence.

"Then, what exactly are you doing, old man?" Jason accentuated the last two words as a personal insult as if Batman should be ashamed of surviving this long when one of his sidekicks died under his watch.

"I'm helping even out our odds," Bruce declared with sheer willpower.

"And what does that even mean, even out our odds?" the younger man answered with frustration.

Bruce swallowed and glanced at the table, his hands falling on his knees.

"You don't even tell me your stupid plans about our chances of survival?" Jason spat out.

Bruce shut his eyes, "I shouldn't have told you about evening the odds. There are too many factors to consider and too many uncertainties until I have concluded the preliminary research. By giving more people access to my plans, I multiply the chances of interference."

Jason outstretched his arms in exasperation, "So, that's it. I'll have to be a good boy and follow your lead while trusting you know better? Because that won't happen."

"Shut up," the older man snapped, "I'll tell you part of my plan. Part of the general ideas, but I'm asking you not to interfere."

Jason furrowed his eyebrows at that, "I won't promise you anything."

Bruce opened his eyes wide and there was a tense moment before the older man finally responded, "Fine. You should know it anyway."

Jason sat down in front of the older male, waiting for some explanations.

Bruce pushed back his hair on his forehead, "The thing is that most of the superheroes' systems are based on repeating cycles of bad feedback. Someone does something wrong and they intervene to stop that person and put them behind bars. Unfortunately, in the States, the prison infrastructure is almost all privatized, meaning corners in rehabilitation programs are cut to permit to maximize the profit and to ensure the flow of prisoners will be kept steady. In short, the villains we send to jail don't reform at all and new villains are created every day. Although superheroes are created regularly, there only needs to be one successful villain plot to cause thousands of mortality and billions of dollars in damages. Our present system is not viable in the long run."

"And?" Jason glared, unsure whether his father deemed him in the villain or superhero category.

"I am trying to be able to use some of our supervillains' resources as a force of good."

"And you chose Talia, Lex and me for your experimentation?" the younger man replied bitingly, the realization burning his stomach in too many emotions for him to unravel.

Bruce sighed, "You were not an experimentation. It wasn't a rational decision with you."

The confession hung thickly in the air like permafrost in the ground.

"It was not a rational decision," Jason parroted back, tonelessly.

Bruce straightened his back, "It wasn't." His son could almost hear the continuation "It was emotional" and his hands shook under the unspoken words. Finally, Jason leaned back, arms still crossed, now convinced he had imagined Bruce's explanation.

"We are not talking about me," Jason threatened calmly, but surely.

After a moment, Bruce nodded his agreement.

"Why did you chose Talia and Lex Luther for your little program?" Jason pursued, enjoying the fact he was the one in control of the conversation.

"I don't believe Talia will ever cease to continue acting misguided, but she has always helped me when it suited her. Talia has often given me heads up when her father started a project she did not agree with. And, although she could try to claim Wayne Enterprises as her own with the existence of Damian Al Ghul as proof of her being my Alpha, she has not done so."

"Why not?" Jason asked, even though he knew Talia enough to already know the answer. She did resurrect him, after all, because she thought it would please Bruce. What she saw in Bruce, he still couldn't say.

Bruce shrugged, "She does not want to manage the business. Talia knows I will fight to keep my family business and she figures Damian will inherit it eventually, meaning, according to her, I am only guarding it in trust until then."

Jason nodded. Talia was pragmatic; what was the use of taking over a family business by force when your kid will eventually inherit it?

"Despite all of Talia's acts as a villain," Bruce continued, "she is very useful for our side. It is considerably difficult to get good information about villains' associations and she and Catwoman are my eyes in that world, especially when Oracle's eyes cannot reach some of their plots. Information is key and the League of Shadow is well informed. Of course, I cannot only rely on her information, since our interests do not always align."

"Lex?" Jason prodded.

Bruce wavered his hands, "That is easier to explain. Lex Luthor is wasted potential as a villain. Not only does he keep Superman, the strongest superhero, busy every week, he also has most of the same interests as us. By putting his considerable mind, financial resources and talent to use on our side, we are gaining much and providing more time for Superman to deal with other villains. In addition, Lex Luthor, except for his obsession with Superman and taking over the world, is not a madman like most of Gotham's villains, which make him less liable of losing control over his rehabilitation. Except for most of Flash's villains, Lex is the most suited for rehabilitation."

"Are you sure he will reform and it is not a mind game of his to let you get you to lower your guard?" Jason answered, unimpressed with the explanation.

"It might," Bruce frown, "But, it is also easy to monitor him from closer by his side."

Jason couldn't help thinking about the proverb: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. He snorted, "You'll get Replacement killed with your mind games."

Bruce tilted his head in the door's direction, "I don't think so. Lex does not want Tim's death. What happened last time with Tim was unintended consequences on his and Ra's part."

That's supposed to make it better? Jason thought as he thought it back, he will try to take Tim under his wing like Ra's wanted to, to turn him into a conqueror. Not that Jason was well placed to think that, but there was much darkness in his replacement Robin. He sought knowledge with an unwavering zeal and that could prove dangerous in this line of work. Bruce thought he had thought it through, nonetheless, Jason was ill at ease with the idea Tim might be the one reforming to someone else's ideology while the villains' rehabilitation program will blow up in Bruce's face.

"That's your big-wig idea? Make friends with Lex and Talia in the hope they don't betray you and ruin it all?" He gestured to include the Manor in his definition of 'all'.

Bruce touched his own elbow, "Not exactly making friends. I'm simply trying to find a way to resolve the villains' recurring issues on a long-term basis. The other superheroes are dealing with those issues in the short term and it is time things change before we get overwhelmed by too much crisis. It is not a sustainable system."

"After you 'tame' Lex, you will start on Joker, is that it?" the younger man replied sarcastically. 

Bruce shook his head, "Not Joker. Maybe Poison Ivy, Riddler, Two-Face or Clayface. Maybe even Bane. I haven't finished my research..."

"And why exactly did you admit all your little fairy tale plan to me today?" Jason asked.

"I need safeguards in place in case things go wrong."

The younger man's eyes glinted in hatred; of course, Bruce would ask his former rebellious sidekick to clean up his mistakes.

Bruce simply looked on, waiting for an answer.

"I'm not your insurance!" Jason flipped the bird to his former mentor.

"No," Bruce hastily added, "I need to create different systems managed by other people than me to counter mine if it goes wrong. I'll also ask Oracle's, Black Bat's, Spoiler's and Nightwing's help. You are simply the first one I talk to about this. For the others, I plan on waiting for the results of my preliminary research concerning the feasibility of the plan."

Bruce had also told him he shouldn't have told it to him. This didn't make any sense to Jason's humble opinion.

"This stinks. There is no way you confided in me first if there was not a hidden reason," Jason stood up, looming over the man who had seemed to loom larger than death until Jason had died in the warehouse in Ethiopia. Jason knew better now. Death loomed over everything, no matter how immortal anyone may seem. There wasn't much innocent for him to lose after growing up in a drug addict's house, nonetheless, he had truly believed Batman was destined to always conquer evil, always slipping away from death at the last moment. Jason knew better now. Bruce could easily die tomorrow or next week by a simple stray bullet. Batman's mantle would not be vacated too long before Golden Boy would take it over, warm blood still splattered on the cowl. Robins would be forever discarded and replaced and Batmans would follow suit, all transition made emotionlessly.

Bruce simply turned all his face in his direction, "There is another reason I told you this now." Jason lifted his eyebrow at that bold and unlikely declaration.

The older man simply shrugged, "I know you were mad about me not protecting Tim as I should from Lex Luthor and the Al Ghul. I'm trying to keep all of you safe."

So, explaining the underlying reasons for his behaviour was his way of trying to apologize to Jason? What the fu** was wrong with him? Jason could take care of himself; he was no longer the teen running around in tights and following Batman's orders. Replacement and Damian were the ones who actually needed some 'father' figure in their lives, not Jason.

Jason glared at Bruce and, even from his higher ground, he could feel the strength and willpower that made Batman become the legend he was today. Through Bruce's lies he had carefully woven about the pretended Alpha, Batman was not intimidated by anyone's stance or behaviour.

"Jason," Bruce finally broke the tensed silence, "Welcome back." 

The younger man glowered, walked out and slammed the door with more than a little satisfaction. Giving him knowledge was not enough for him to follow the old man's order like a puppet.

***  
Later that same day...

 

"Lois?" he cautiously asked the door.

"It's unlocked; come in," Lois's voice yelled from inside her apartment.

"Here!" the answer came from Clark's friend's bedroom. He dragged to the door and carefully opened it. The scene was familiar; Lois sat with her laptop placed over the bed and files and files encumbering the bed.

"Where are you going to sleep tonight?" he asked her, still amazed by her work ethic.

"On the couch," she yawned, "I hope you brought food."

"Of course, I brought my mom's lasagna," he answered with a smile.

The smile she sent his way could have lighted a building; food was her one weakness after good story chasing, "You're my angel, you know that?"

He chuckled at that, "Hey, let's take a break from whatever story you are chasing to eat it, ok?"

She cracked her back and followed him to the kitchen. Lois took out two mugs and poured coffee in them, adding sugar and milk in his and nothing in hers. The lasagna was put in the microwave to heat up for human consumption.

"Not that I am not happy to hang out with you, Lois, but what is this about?"

She sipped her coffee, "Since you fell hard for that crazy Omega from Gotham, I decided I needed to investigate him and to finally get to the bottom of his story."

Clark's heart almost stopped beating, "What story?"

"He is hiding a big story and I'll find out what it is," Lois swore darkly with an evil grin. Clark felt shivers all over his arms.

"What are you talking about?" the male reporter questioned, trying to avoid squirming under her calculating eyes.

"That man is hiding something and now is the time I will figure it out. I can't let a friend get conned or trapped by that man," she replied with intent eyes. Clark was touched she cared so much about his wellbeing, yet, he was uneasy about his most persistent friend digging about his love interest's secrets while knowing he was Batman. There really needed to have more "How to be a Superhero for Dummies" books out there for the ethic perspective on the whole secret identities dilemma.

"Did you find anything?" He decided to ask, curious at how close to the truth she was getting and also curious about Bruce's background. There wasn't much Bruce was willing to tell him. His children were the only subject that seemed to garner any truthful responses and it was still a touchy subject.

Lois stretched her arms behind her back, "I wasn't hoping in getting much out of the public files, but it is even worse than I projected. I can find hundreds and thousands of articles about his scandals or his parents' unresolved death, yet not much in the way of personal items. I questioned a maid who had worked at the Wayne Manor when his parents were still living and she could only tell me Thomas Wayne was mostly absent from the Manor, Martha was the mastermind behind the Fundraisers, Alfred was not a butler before his arrival at the Manor-although she couldn't even guess what he had been before-and Bruce was a very quiet kid. I insisted on more and she admitted she couldn't help me. She and the rest of the servants were fired after the Master and Mistress of the house died in the alley. I think she even hinted she had been paid not to talk about the family, more than what she had already said."

Clark was interested. He knew Batman had skillfully managed to hide his true personality from the public, still, it was sometime else to realize to what extent the tracks of his childhood were covered.

"Was it all you managed to get?" the male reporter asked.

"No. I obviously tried other venues than articles or domestics. I tried finding anything about your crush's grades or school papers to give me a better idea of his personality. There was nothing left. I spoke to his teachers and they didn't have much to say except he didn't really fit in. The only noteworthy incident was one in which some firecrackers exploded in the schoolyard and Bruce Wayne had to go home because he freaked out. It seems he is sensitive to loud noises. His teacher told me it could very well because of the manner of parents'death. Except for that, there was surprisingly little to learn about your crush at his schools. I have the lists of his fellow students and I'll try to pry some information from them, but it was a long time ago and most people from his prestigious schools are reluctant to speak with reporters," Lois explained while testing how warm the lasagna is. She seemed satisfied as she cut the lasagna portion and gave one plate to her colleague and put hers on another plate. She gobbled down aggressively her food, while Clark watched, amused. 

She was making grateful noises and caught him staring, "What. Haven't you seen people eat before?" 

"You have an interesting way of eating," he tactfully answered before taking a sip of his coffee. 

Lois shrugged and finished her plate, looking completely ravenous, "You do know I am only friends with you because your mother's food is the best. If it wasn't for that, I wouldn't cover for your escapes."

The other reporter smiled at her, "You are too nice not to cover for my absences."

She quirked an eyebrow at him, "That's what you think. One day, you'll realize how wrong you are."

He laughed at her, "It would be a more persuading argument if you weren't currently investigating one of the richest men on the planet because you are worried he is bad news for me."

"Watch it, Smallville, or I'll stop letting you walk all over me."

Clark wanted to laugh at that statement; Lois never permitted anyone to walk over her. Her impressive glare stopped him from commenting on it, "So, you spent hours researching Bruce Wayne, a very public figure, and you didn't find anything of worth?"

Lois used one hand to place back her hair, "I did find hints and possible tracks to get more information and I also got all the court file concerning his butler's guardianship of him. That was entertaining."

"How so?" Clark prodded.

Lois started gesturing, "That Alfred Pennyworth is quite extraordinary. There were many who wanted to be declared Bruce Wayne's guardian in order to manage his wealth and Alfred's legitimacy as Bruce's guardian was tenuous at best. Nonetheless, he managed to find proof of each of the other proposed guardians' incompetence to be Bruce's guardian while there was nothing found about his history before his tenement as a butler. It was a true mastermind's stroke: he stood victorious over his opponents' dead body, claiming victory like a classic Greek hero."

Clark frowned, "Why was it a guardianship anyway and not an adoption?"

Lois snorted, "You really don't know anything about how high-class families operate, don't you?"

"No," the other reporter grumbled out. A kid who grew on a mid-west farm had no inkling how rich people handled their trouble.

His friend leaned in, "High society operates on another system than us low-brow. Their values take longer to change and they are more rigid in their traditions. Bruce Wayne is the last descendant of the Wayne and, even though he is an Omega, it would normally be his goal to perpetuate his name. It is rare, but acceptable for an Alpha or a Beta to take the Omega's last name in cases where the Omega's family is rich and it is the last descendant of that name. Nonetheless, the Omega has to be the last descendant of his name. If Alfred Pennyworth adopted Bruce Wayne, even if he had let him keep his family's name, Bruce could no longer negotiate to get his spouse to keep his last name because Alfred, a common man, is his father. It would cast dishonour on anyone marrying Bruce, especially if they are taking his name. Furthermore, it would weaken Bruce's position among his peers. It is strange, but think of that rule as if high-class society is protecting their exclusivity to riches; the members hate nothing more than someone unworthy joining their ranks. As long as Bruce's father is the deceased Thomas Wayne, his position is mostly secured until his marriage." 

She paused to drink some more coffee,"If Bruce's father was Alfred Pennyworth, it would not take long for high society's scheming to try to find loopholes to make Bruce lose his fortune, especially by using the argument that if he died, all of his fortunes would go to his butler which would be a true catastrophe, according to that high-class society. Them snubbing Alfred Pennyworth would have happened regardless of Bruce's status as an Alpha, Beta or Omega. Does that explain everything?"

It was an interesting expose of how high-society worked, unfortunately, Clark was distracted by his sick feeling he was feeling in his stomach. Why did everything feel so much more contrived and complicated? It did kind of explain why Bruce was not straightforward in any of his endeavours. 

"Why isn't this reported in newspapers? I did read most of the articles about Bruce and none of them made that analysis," Clark pushed, still thinking about the other man leaning on him this very morning, his guards off for once. How many intricacies was Clark missing about high-class society?

Lois wryly continued, "Reporters are not high-class society members, therefore, they do not have 'insiders' status concerning their dirty little secrets. Moreover, even Cat and her endless knowledge of good manners in high-society cannot simply print anything they feel like it. Almost all of the newspapers companies are owned by the same few companies and the owners are part of the high-society. They control the message vehiculated in their newspapers. One of my best stories fell through because I was skirting too closely the line of the unacceptable according to the Daily Planet's owner's opinion. The owners want stories that sell and push forward their agendas. That's what we are paid to do. An orphan billionaire kid who saw his parents gunned down in front of him in an alley? That's the perfect image for everyone to transmit; a child's vulnerabilities, the danger of a lack of security in a big city and our most voyeurist instinct concerning others' misfortune. It is the perfect image to talk about enhancing security in our cities, something that rich people desperately clamour for. But, talking about the high-class vultures flying around a highly vulnerable orphan child? That's out."

Highly vulnerable orphan child. 

Those were not the words Clark would have used to describe Bruce, Clark thought, as he remembered his stupid but free spirit Omega facade, his quiet but passionate Bruce identity few knew about or his battle-hardened Batman exterior. The nagging feeling there was truth to it irritated Clark. There was a frailty in the man, a vulnerability, the reporter had rarely seen but nothing as clear-cut as "highly vulnerable orphan child". It was more his weakness and guilt about his kids that had shone through. The male reporter hated the slipping sensation gripping his stomach.

"Earth to Clark," Lois called out.

"Uh? Did you say something?" Clark replied, breaking out of his line of thinking. 

"Well, did you find anything out about your boyfriend?"

The male reporter blushed hard at the name. "He's not... my boyfriend..." he stuttered awkwardly at his friend. 

"Really?" Lois sounded genuinely surprised, "You keep coming back here with this goofy look on your face, like this morning. I thought for sure you were having sex with him on a regular basis and since I know you only have sex with one-night stands since Lex, I thought you and Bruce were serious."

Sometimes, Clark disliked how perceptive his friend was. It was all true: the casual sex with one-night stands, his joyous mood after he had spent time with Bruce and thinking Clark was into Bruce. 

Clark swallowed, "It is kind of complicated..."

He felt his good friend's sharp gaze on him but her tone was kind, "Is it really now?"

Clark nodded, "I would rather not talk about it until I can figure out exactly what this is."

"Fine," Lois accepted, "but I am still investigating on him. I have a few good leads to follow."

He exhaled loudly, relieved she was following his wishes, "Aren't you looking into his eight-year disappearance gap?"

She nodded, "I looked superficially into it. There is a real drought in terms of photos and information during those years, but I have made a list of some popular specialized high-class mental health or rehabilitation facility in the world. That would be my first guess as to his disappearance. If he really was having fun all over the world, there would be photos or stories about him in resorts or something."

Clark knew for a fact Bruce was not in a drug addict rehabilitation or mental health facility during those eight years. For part of it, he was training with the League of Shadow and it was clear he was probably training elsewhere for the rest of the eight-year gap in his public life. The reporter was sure Lois was not going to find much in that direction.

"But," Lois continued, "that is not all I am exploring. From my understanding, Bruce had one childhood friend and that friend is exceptionally back in Gotham. It is my chance to get information about him as a kid."

Clark was intrigued, "And who would that be?"

"Thomas Elliot. He lost his father in a car accident and Thomas Wayne, Bruce's father, saved his mother from the same car crash. Thomas Elliot is a rich doctor who recently moved back to Gotham. He was Bruce's childhood friend. He is supposed to host some sort of event in the coming week and I already got my pass for the event," Lois explained triumphantly. 

"That does seem like a promising lead," Clark responded. He should probably let Bruce know his friend was thoroughly investigating him. It was putting him in a difficult position, especially since Lois was investigating Bruce in a move to protect him from danger. Asking Lois to stop would only push her to research Bruce more. What should he do?

***

Later, that same day...

"Dinah?"

"Coming!" she yelled at the exterior door. She struggled to straighten her t-shirt before answering the door. 

"Hal! I was waiting for you!" she hugged him and got hugged back with one of Hal's arm.

"I brought beer," he gestured to his other arm. 

"Well, should we get started on them?" she grinned back, taking the beer from his hands and putting them on the table in the middle of the living room. She sat comfortably, her legs neatly tucked in her seat, with one of Hal's beer in her hand. 

Hal sat in front of her, his hand also opening a beer. 

"I could offer you a glass but I doubt you would take it," she offered. 

He smiled back, "I'm not Ollie's high-class's friend, I'm your street harden friend." They laughed at the joke. Ollie would not have gotten it if he were there today and Dinah felt a tug at that thought. 

It wasn't his fault he was not from the same type of background Dinah and Hal had grown up in. It wasn't fair to blame Ollie's wealth, unfortunately, the disparity in their background still left strains on their relationship. 

"So, what's the problem today?" Dinah cut right into the substance, not being one to savour small-talk.

Hal looked hesitant, which was a rare look on his face, "I got involved in something... difficult."

Immediately, alarm bells sounded in Dinah's mind, "Hero-wise? Is it another diplomatic mission?"

He grimaced, eyes on her, "It's more personal." 

"Are you relapsing?" Dinah had to ask.

He frowned as he was bringing his beer to his mouth, "I'm never voluntarily getting involved in drugs again. No, it's something else."

"What is it?" Dinah pushed.

He sighed and took a swig of his beer, "It's really complicated."

She waited for a few beats before continuing, "I could probably help you if I had a better picture of the issue."

"I kind of promised I wouldn't talk about the details," Hal waved in a general direction.

"Oh," she answered, a bit stun by his promise. Hal was serious with his promises and rarely gave any, especially since he had become a Green Lantern. It was hard for him to meet all of his Earth obligations while meeting his Green Lantern ones. 

Hal out of the blue asked, "What the heck does 'safety net' mean anyway?"

Dinah tilted her head in his direction, puzzled, "Is there a context to that question?"

Hal gulped some more beer and waved it in her direction, "Someone asked me to be their safety net. I'm an ace pilot and a Green Lantern Corps member. How should I know anything about safety nets?"

If Dinah had been confused before, she was even more so, "Someone asked you to be a safety net?"

Hal arched his eyebrow, "They sure did. And, I, being the idiot I am, agreed to it. What is wrong with me?"

Dinah chuckled, "At least you are a charming idiot."

Hal grinned at her, posing in an exaggerated way as a celebrity on a fashion magazine might have.

She couldn't help but giggle at his pantomime, "Stop it, Hal, I can't drink beer while you're making me laugh like this!"

He winked at her, "That leaves more of it for me."

She quirked an eyebrow at him, "You bought all the beer."

He seemed to ponder on it a moment, "True. Why didn't we simply raid your husband's alcohol reserve?"

Dinah rolled her eyes, "Remember the last time that happened?"

Hal flashed his teeth, "It greatly improved his party."

Dinah shrugged, "That's also how you got banned from his wine cellar."

"Ollie really has no good sense of humour when it comes to his alcohol," Hal replied, still smiling. 

Dinah smiled. It was good to see an old friend who understood not merely intelligentially, but viscerally where she came from. 

She nonetheless didn't lose sight of Hal's unease still hidden within his boisterous behaviour, "Why did you agree to be someone's safety net if you didn't want to?"

Hal glanced at her, "It's not exactly that I didn't want to. It's more... nobody in their right mind would ask that of me."

Dinah nodded, "You still don't like to have someone's expectation placed on you." 

His fingers drummed on his beer and he defended, "It's not Carol."

"I know," Dinah answered more gently, "she would not ask you to be a safety net, not after your last fight with her."

"She was always the one making sure my Earth life was organized," Hal confessed, "and I got too used to it."

Dinah knew it had been more complicated than that between Hal and Carol, "So someone asked you to be their safety net and you agreed. Was it recently?" 

He shook his head, "No, it happened a while ago and I still don't really know what that entails. Plus, the situation is just plain weird." 

Hal carded his hair, "Like really weird. There are other people involved and they don't tell me anything else either. It's..."

"Disturbing?" Dinah leaned forward. 

"Not exactly. It's destabilizing. I'm not even sure whether I like or dislike my involvement."

It really sounded a strange situation if it made Hal this uncertain. Maybe it was a good idea for Hal to get involved in it as it would distract him from all the drama of his broken relationship with Carol. At the same time, whoever had asked Hal to be their safety net caught Dinah's interest. No matter how you looked at it, it was a strange decision.

"Why don't you ask the person who asked you to be their safety net to explain it to you?"

Hal snorted, "That someone hates explanations. Seriously, even admitting they wanted me as a safety net was too much for them." 

"Why not ask the other people involved what is going on? Maybe you'd get a clearer picture of the situation?" Dinah proposed, still wondering what kind of relationship Hal had with someone close enough to ask him to be a safety net, but bad enough at explanations to forgo describing what it entailed.

Hal looked over the idea and nodded, "That's a good idea. They might actually tell me what is going on."

Dinah drank some more, "I hope someday you'll explain why this is all hush-hush."

He grinned, "You'll be the first I'll tell when it will be okay for me to tell it."

"Good, I would rather not lose my favourite drinking buddy because he started keeping stupid secrets from me," she grinned back. 

"Now that my serious stuff is out of the way, why don't we play some video games to relax?"

Dinah sneered, "Still angry you got owned by Batman almost two months ago? Seriously, you need to let it go."

Hal took the remote control, "It has nothing to do with Batman. If I use my ring in real life, I would defeat you too easily. You will beat my ass if we wrestled and I don't use my ring. Video games equalize our chances."

She took a seat on the floor beside him, "It does not give you more chances of beating me."

He grinned at her, "We'll see about that."

***

CK: B, this is a heads-up. Lois is investigating you.

B: I am aware.

CK: Really?

B: Yes.

CK: So, you don't mind her researching what you did when you were gone for eight years, her questioning your old domestics, schoolteachers and colleagues? Nor the fact she is currently reviewing all of your court files and planning on questioning Thomas Elliot.

B: I am sure everything is taken care of except Thomas Elliot.

CK: She's planning on seeing him at his party or something this week.

B: I'll see to it. 

Bruce Wayne has disconnected.

***

S: BB?

BB:?

S: Do you remember I told you we would go to the waffle house today at 3:00 pm?

BB: Yes.

S: Plans have changed. 'A' gave me waffles this morning and I heard there was this special dinner with LL at B's house. I think we should both crash it.

BB: Why?

S: Don't worry. It is entirely legitimate this time. We are seeking proof of our theory for question #3 concerning B's behaviour. 

BB:?

S: We know; they made you swear not to tell anyone B is in love.

BB:...

S: It's not a secret anymore. We just have to capture proof of B's behaviour around LL to give the Batfamily for our team to win. Are you in?

BB: I don't understand.

S: Translation: we are trying to get B to acknowledge his love for LL.

BB: Ok?

S: Please be there. We'll need all the help we can manage to get the proof. 

BB: Be there.

S: Thanks, BB! I know I can always rely on you!

Spoiler has disconnected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was time to address the Jason-Bruce dynamic once again. Of course, neither is brave enough to address their issues ("We are not talking about me" from Jason and Bruce agreeing to it).
> 
> As for Hal and Dinah, in this world, they are best friends. They and Barry were a trio of good friends until Barry died. Hal and Ollie are not as close as Hal and Dinah since Ollie is Clark's best friend in this universe. Diana and Arthur are best friends and Wally is younger in age and in responsibility to everyone else. He is closer to Hal and Dinah because they were close to his mentor. 
> 
> Lois does not know when to give up. What can I say: I really like her determination in the face of hardship. Plus, I have often wondered why Alfred (a British secret agent who abandoned his own biological daughter-that's all canon, by the way) was only Bruce's guardian and not adopted father nor did anyone else managed in getting named as Bruce's guardian. Conclusion? Alfred is awesome.


	6. Gambit-Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations for the dinner are underway. Things may not go as smoothly as Bruce and Lex had planned...

Lex was looking at his wardrobe with more fixation than usual.

"I didn't think you could be vainer than you already were... It seems I underestimated your capacity for vanity," Mercy dryly commented from the doorway.

Lex ignored his bodyguard/killer/assistant/henchwoman in favour of continuing weighting which clothes he should be wearing tonight.

"Are you trying to impress 'someone'?" Mercy pursued as if she was truly disgusted by the concept.

Lex hated having to answer anyone, but he really couldn't let his bodyguard file this as a proof he was 'obsessed' with Bruce Wayne.

"No. I'm trying to see which suit I am willing to have to throw away that will also not them infer I am scared of dirtying my clothes," Lex answered still pondering whether the forest green one or the lime green one would be the final choice.

"Throw away?" There was so much disgust in the sentence, Lex knew his bodyguard misunderstood the reason.

He gestured at his wardrobe, "Since I have been attending the Wayne Manor, how many suits did I damage?"

The disgust vacated the voice as it finally dawned on his bodyguard the reason of the waste, "Seven."

"Exactly. I am extremely rich, not wasteful."

"You mean, you are greedy and you hate wasting money on suits that get used only once," his snappy bodyguard responded with glee, "especially since Bruce Wayne's brats destroy everything in their paths."

Lex wanted to defend Tim by saying he wasn't a brat, but, with Damian around at the same time? Tim was, unfortunately, a brat who would try to trick his brother into impossible challenges. It was hard to disagree on that.

"I can't let think they can intimidate me with pitiful and amateurish techniques," Lex added as he chose the green lime suit.

Lex could feel Mercy's unimpressed frown from where he was situated. "Don't you have perimeters to verify? I'm sure our security has been breached since Catwoman's thieving exercise. She always manages to elude your attacks," he added with condescension.

"That's what happens when you don't play enough professionals to do high-quality jobs for you," Mercy insinuated, clearly rebuffed at his insults.

Lex glared at his employee. She glared back.

"Shouldn't you get ready for your relaxing dinner?" Mercy stated. Lex shrugged and started undressing, knowing full well his bodyguard will immediately close the door as she always said she should be paid more for having to endure hideous sights like his naked body.

Lex put on his clothes like a general his armour. This was war.

***

Cass liked the vastness of the Manor; she could hide in a corner and not be disturbed until the next meal. Moreover, nobody, except her and Steph(when she was bored) liked to spend time exploring the abandoned wings of the grand building.

She always found pictures and items forgotten in some corner of the house. When she first came to the Manor, she would bring them to Bruce because she thought he had been messy and had displaced his own relics and items.

His reaction to the objects really varied. Sometimes, he would smile at her with true appreciation, at other moments, his smile was strained and she could sense he was trying to avoid hurting her.

Dick had once tried to explain why this happened. He'd say grief was a strange animal; sometimes, it brought you joy at remembering the good things, sometimes, those same memories brought you pain as the person sharing it with you was absent.

Cass understood grief well enough.

It happened when your heart would hurt and you couldn't make it stop. That was grief.

Grief was not a mountain of forgotten ghosts haunting a house. That was 'messy'. At least, according to Steph.

Cass still didn't understand what Dick and Steph had meant.

Bruce never told her to stop bringing things. At least, his body language never did even if he did ask her verbally once. Cass knew better than to take him at his words.

Words were traps for people like Bruce and Cass. It ensnared them in miscommunication as rabbits in a trapper's snare.

Dick and Steph never had that problem. Maybe that's why people said they were easy to get along with.

Maybe it was because they appeared more open.

Their body language didn't always align with what they were saying. At least, Cass didn't think it did.

It was hard living in their world.

The League of Assassin and Batman had simple rules and ways of achieving concrete goals.

Assassins laid in wait for their preys. She knew. She had been one of them.

She also recognized the looks of soldiers preparing for a dangerous battle.

Bruce was readying himself for war, his concentration fixed on charts and pages of information covering his desk.

That she could observe in the tenseness of his shoulders and the fierce concentration in his eyes.

She perched herself on the study room's cabinet, watching and waiting. Cass knew the study was one of the only rooms in which it was fine to get in contact with him in the hopes of getting a conversation.

Finally, he tilted in her direction, body asking her if she wanted something. She nodded and gestured to the papers in a way that made clear that was her question.

He glanced at the papers and said, "Preparations."

She gestured back, knowing he would understand she meant to question why he was acting like this was war.

He sighed, "Negotiations are wars of words."

She tilted her head on the side, prompting a longer answer.

He nodded to the seat in front of him and she shook her head in refusal. Bruce threw her a binder of papers, intimating her she should read it with a small gesture.

Cass grimaced, not liking the idea of reading long and arduous papers from which she couldn't understand much. Bruce encouraged her to open it anyway. She did, halfheartedly and found a simple graph with the simple subtitles "Lex's interests", "Justice League's interests" and the "Gotham's interests". Cass hesitatingly read the words out loud, her voice rough with uneasiness.

Bruce's eyes shone with pride. Cass couldn't help but glower with happiness. It was hard for her to read, but she was making progress. Everyone was giving her a hand with it.

After a moment, she remembered why she had started disturbing Bruce and she decided to continue her line of enquiry by gesturing to the pages. He tipped his head forward, encouraging her to present her theory.

She shrugged and went back to reading out loud the words under the subtitles. It took her a long time to finish reciting all of them, but every time she lifted her head, all of Bruce's attention was focused on her. He would nod in her direction when she got things right. She tried not to show too much pride in her achievements.

When she had finished her reciting, Bruce arched an eyebrow in question, as if she had understood why he needed to prepare for the dinner. She nodded. If you looked at the Venn diagram -that's the name Tim gave them, at least- with the three circles intersecting in some of their interests in the following pages, it was even clearer for Cass what Bruce was trying to accomplish.

Cass soundlessly jumped off her perch and nodded a thank in Bruce's direction. He replied with a small nod that meant 'you're welcomed'. Then, he moved his head forward to ask her whether she would be there tonight. She nodded back and waved him goodbye before heading out.

It was really much easier to communicate with Bruce than with Steph.

Why did Steph want Bruce to admit he loved Lex Luthor tonight? Cass shrugged; she really didn't understand her friend's logic sometimes.

***

Lex arrived at the Manor, still wary of an 'accidental' attack.

"If you are so scared of them, I can come to protect you," Mercy interrupted his thoughts with contempt. Of course, she didn't know the children were Batman's sidekicks and not simply ordinary kids and it's not as if Bruce would appreciate him telling her that. Lex waved her back arrogantly and rang the doorbell. Within ten seconds, Alfred opened the door and let him in.

"How is it going, Master Lex?"

Lex nodded tersely in Alfred's direction, "Fine. You?"

There was a glint of mischievousness in Alfred's eyes, "It seems Master Bruce's proteges will participate at tonight's dinner. I hope you are ready."

Lex's head whipped to look at him, "Tim and Damian are here tonight?", knowing full well it wouldn't be only them since Alfred gave him the warning and Tim and Damian were normally here the last few times he had come by. 

Alfred gave him a neutral smile and Lex knew he was in deep trouble. Was it Jason Todd? Or Richard Grayson? 

Before he could try to tailor his plan to fit their personalities, Bruce arrived on time (for once, Lex thought bitterly) and acted as a perfect host (which, quite surprisingly, he was).

In fact, most times, Bruce was not the one spending the most time with him in the Manor. That honour normally went to Tim and Alfred. 

It was quite the pleasant surprise to see the well-crafted black-suited Bruce guide him to the living room and politely offer him a small glass of wine before dinner. Of course, Bruce acting so uncharacteristically also brought all of Lex's suspicious out. Nice Bruce was suspicious no matter how you looked at him. It must be some sort of destabilizing technique he used to confuse his enemies. If that was his aim, it was working perfectly. 

Lex was working overtime to figure out what sort of advantage Bruce was trying to get this early in the evening. 

"Did you have a nice day, Lex?" Bruce asked lightly as he poured alcohol in two glasses and gave one to Lex, eyes politely on him.

Lex had been ready for Bruce's silent treatment, his playboy facade or his cutting remarks or comments; he was ill-prepared to face Bruce making a sincere effort at small-talk.

"Yes. You?" Lex finally answered, shifting uncomfortably in the couch.

"I managed to accomplish a lot of work. I am quite content," Bruce replied nonchalantly, "Did it really really take you a long time to choose your suit this time?"

"How did you know?" Lex frowned, hoping it wasn't because Bruce had put a camera in his home.

Bruce shrugged, "It's a simple deduction based on your past experiences at the Manor. You also confirmed my theory."

Lex internally groaned; Bruce was taking an upper hand in this evening's match as Lex was distracted. Time to get his head in the game.

Lex took a sip of the prestigious wine, reevaluating his techniques. He couldn't help inwardly smile at this situation. He really should note to always expect something unexpected when dealing with Bruce Wayne.

Lex relaxed in his seat, mentally switching his mindset to match his counterpart's more pleasant one, "You are quite the gentleman tonight. Don't tell me you are trying to get me into an agreeable mood for whatever you have planned tonight."

The ambiguous suggestion was answered seriously by Bruce twirling his wine pensively, "I invited you here tonight, Lex. My parents taught me guests are the pride of hosts. It is a responsibility I take seriously."

This mildly talkative, but guarded Bruce was quite interesting in Lex's mind. It was another aspect of the man he hadn't really seen before. He licked his lips in anticipation of the coming duel. 

"That is somewhat different from what I learnt," Lex asserted. 

Bruce nodded in encouragement, looking more relaxed than he was, as energy was thrumming in the air.

"I have heard," Lex said, his eyes glinting with satisfaction, "you had to impress guests into submission."

Bruce nodded, eyes fixed on his figure, "I can't say I am surprised, Lex." 

"Well," Lex smirked,"it may not be the most dignified explanation, but it certainly has a way of exposing the ugliness underneath society's veneer of politeness."

"Is that your own belief?" Bruce asked, looking mildly interested, yet his eyes betrayed the lie with their intensity. 

"Do you really believe in the necessity of politeness in society as anything but a lie? It seems useless," Lex countered. 

Bruce's fingers played with his glass's stem, "Alfred once told me civilization needed those codes and rules to function properly."

Lex arched an eyebrow, "That seems an awfully naive statement for him to give."

"He was talking to a child, back then," Bruce explained, his eyes daring him to tell him Alfred was an idiot. 

"Is that what children should learn? How to live in a fantasy? I don't believe it. Children should be faced with the true harshness of life to give them a chance at surviving it. At least, it gives them an head-start. It is better than coddling them with fantasies and useless utopias," Lex answered with a gesture. 

Bruce leaned back, "It's not a question of utopias nor fantasies. Children should have hope."

Lex sipped his wine, "They should be given tools to survive or obey the authority. That is sufficient hope."

"As interesting as your discussion is," a female voice interjected, "Don't you think both of your God complexes are satisfied with your horrible plans?"

Lex hadn't heard anyone come in, but, in this home, it was useless to hope for any kind of advanced notice. He turned his head in the voice's direction and saw a blonde-haired teenager girl standing with a black-haired one. 

The blonde one crossed her arms on her chest, "You know, your conversation reeks of arrogance. As if, you both think you are deciding everyone else's fate in this world like Gods, above us all." There were humour and anger in her answer, both sounding sincere. 

Lex's eyes went over the two teenagers and he could put faces and maks to them; the blonde must be Stephanie Brown, aka Spoiler, while the black-haired one must be Cassandra Cain, aka Black Bat. It was interesting to see they were closer to Bruce than he had previously predicted if they were eating dinner with them tonight. It seemed a reckless move on Bruce's part to expose more of his associates to the smartest man on the planet when he didn't trust him. 

Bruce's eyes flickered to the two girls and he asked, "Why did you come tonight, Stephanie?"

The blonde strutted to the sitting area and sat abruptly by Bruce's side, "You did say there was a party tonight. Why should I miss all the fun?"

Bruce's hand passed in his face, "It's a business dinner, not a party."

"Is that what they call them nowadays?" the girl answered with a wink. Bruce furrowed his brows, seemingly worried about the girl's sanity. 

"Why don't you present me to that young lady, Bruce? I would be happy to get to know her," Lex prompted in laser focus, eyes already trying to detect this person's flaws and how to use them in his grand scheme of things. 

Bruce glanced at him and pronounced less enthusiastic than an ideal host should, "This is Stephanie Brown, a good friend of my family. Please meet Lex Luthor." No qualities were used in describing Lex, which the bald businessman found a bit upsetting. 

Lex offered his hand, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Brown."

She quirked an eyebrow at him and answered frosty, "We've been sufficiently acquainted." The words were perplexing for Lex until he remembered he might have almost killed her father Cluemaster (as well as other second-rate villains) in one of his schemes. He had almost forgotten that incident. It was too bad Superman had not been duped. 

Lex wasn't repelled by the cold greeting. He had expected most of the Batfamily to speak to him in hard tones. Bruce, Alfred and Tim had to be exceptions. 

Lex simply retracted his arm, eyes focusing on the black-haired girl, "And who might you be?"

Before Bruce or Cassandra could interject anything, Stephanie explained, "She has no name to give to a lowly villain like yourself." Lex was used to being called a villain, but 'lowly' was a nice dramatic touch for a change, he thought. 

There was tension in the air as Bruce's plan for the evening was getting upset by his own 'clan' members. Lex leaned back, ready to enjoy this chaotic evening, "Isn't she more of a villain than myself?"

It was not a smart thing to alienate the Batfamily's members, but Lex couldn't afford to look weak and there was no way Stephanie would relent in her attacks. 

"She's not!" Stephanie rose, clearly insulted, "She's the kindest, most tender-hearted person I know! You're just a bald jerk who thinks he is above everyone else. You don't care for anyone or anything except your own gain!" 

Lex smirked at her and stroke his glass of wine, "It's true I look out for my best interest. That's not criminal, that's smart." He paused for dramatic impact before adding, "Killers and murderers that the government do not control, on the other hand, are almost universally considered villains, no matter how kind they are."

Stephanie flinched hard and opened her mouth to reply, unfortunately, she was interrupted by Bruce's, "Cass, can you show Steph your newest dance moves? I am sure she would enjoy it more than talking about 'boring business stuff' with middle-aged men."

Cass nodded in Bruce's direction, seemingly seeing the reasons for the dismissal etched in his face, and grabbed Steph's hand like a little kid would. Stephanie opened her mouth to respond angrily to Lex or Bruce, but the small squeeze of Cass's hand was enough to shut her up. She only glared accusingly at Bruce and left with her friend. 

"That was an entertaining meeting," Lex commented dryly in the tension-filled room. 

The glare he received from Bruce was impressive, even by Bruce's standard.

"I make it a policy of mine not to be pushed around by anyone," Lex explained, "be it a child or an adult. Nobody should play me like a fool." 

Bruce didn't relent on the glare, "Traditionally, the responsibilities of the host and the guest were clearly delimited. Guests have the responsibility to be pleasant." Bruce paused, "I do not let guests, of any kind, insult my family in my house."

"Your family friend started the fight. It was also your responsibility to stop it before I got insulted," Lex replied, not giving an inch. 

"You did not insult her, you took Cass as your target. Since Stephanie did attack you first, I'll give you a chance to stay," Bruce answered as he leaned forward, looking more formidable than ever, "You will apologize to Cassandra." Lex knew by the other man's body language this was non-negotiable. If he refused, Bruce would cut all contact except, maybe, the alliance between Luther, Queen and Wayne. 

Lex then remembered Bruce had called Cass 'family'. 

Lex hadn't known Bruce had other 'children' except for his four boys. He had messed up the start of the evening badly enough with his comments. On the other hand, he had gained some more insights into how Bruce's mind was working. This was probably worth the bad grace he had fallen into or the apology. 

"I'll apologize to your daughter," Lex replied. He could see how uncomfortable Bruce was with the word and it pleased him. It was another weakness to exploit. 

Spending time at the Manor was never dull.

***

S: I HATE HIM!

R: What happened?

S: He insulted Cass for no reasons!

R: He did? Is it true Black Bat?

BB: S started.

R: S? I thought you were simply looking for proof B loves him?

S: He said he was pleased to make my acquaintance. My acquaintance! He almost got my father killed on a plan to bring down Superman. 

R: ...He was merely polite and you attacked him?

S: He got on my nerves and I accused him of being a lowly villain and he said BB was more of a villain than him!

R: And?

S: He tries to take over the world every Tuesday! He is so obviously a villain, he keeps his head bald to write it there every night.

R: But we can't even prove it. In the eyes of the law, he is not a villain. Besides, B believes LL is making an effort to change.

S: That's so unfair! He's even worse than B with his God complex! They were literally talking about raising kids!

R: What...?

S: I said, B and LL were talking on how kids should be raised.

R: Yes, but in which way did they mean it? How should RR be raised? How they should adopt a kid together or how they should have a... kid together?

S: Is it normal if all those options sound end-of-the-world-awful to me? 

R: ...Do you mean to tell me they were seriously talking about having kids together? That seems much too fast for B.

S: Are you sure? Do you really think he spent years with Talia before RR's birth? 

R: I try not to think about how RR came to be. It's hard enough suffering his presence every day. 

BB: RR nice.

R: BB, you are too nice for your own good if you believe that.

S: Right! She shouldn't have to be insulted by some bald jerk! B really has the worst taste in romantic partners!

R: LL isn't that bad, you know. It would help if you didn't simply insult him to get your way. Besides, from what you are telling me, you were the one who dragged BB in your fight. 

S: You are fine with him getting B pregnant with annoying know-it-alls! As if this world needs more Luthers or Waynes trying to run it.

R: ...

BB: Baby=cute?

S: Normally yeah, but I shiver at the thought of many Lex babies crawling all of the Manor's furniture and claiming they own every inch of Gotham. Knowing B, he wants a lot of kids... The world is doomed, doomed, I say!

R: Calm down. B has a countless number of contingency plans. I'm sure he would have plans for falling in love with a villain.

S: Are you stupid? Love makes you do stupid things! I can't believe B falling in love was the world threat nobody planned for!

R: We don't even know if they are planning on having babies now. There are other options, after all...

S: But that's the most dramatic one, so, I prefer to choose that one.

R: Tell me you are not planning on staying for dinner.

S: I have to. Even if simply to get LL to apologize to poor BB.

R: BB? Are you okay?

BB: Fine. Told truth.

R: It wasn't, BB. You are not a villain.

S: You are the finest hero ever, no matter what anyone else tells you, BB. Don't ever think otherwise. 

***  
Meanwhile...

RR: Based on the files and B's conversation, it seems whoever is planning the attack on Joker is not patient. We need to establish a new information network to compensate for X's misdirections. 

N: That takes a long time to establish... I doubt if we have that much time. 

RR: Maybe not enough for M's next action, but we need counters for X because it might take more time to catch X.

N: Right. Have you tried with RH? His network is mostly independent of ours and we might be able to use his numerous informants to contribute to the cause. 

RR: I am not begging that scoundrel for help.

N: Asking for help is normal. Even your father does it sometimes. It makes you strong, not weak.

RR: Ah! You think you'll get me with your stupid idea of 'joke'?

N: It's not a joke. Seriously, he has two Robins helping him out about every night. And he lets S and BB join in. O helps to transmit information. Even RH gives a hand every once in a while.

RR: That does not make any sense. If someone would be helping Father, it would be me. I am sufficient alone. 

N: Look, RR, Gotham is a city that is hard to look over alone. Before B became a hero, there were many others who tried to be heroes in it. B is the only one who managed to survive without going crazy or abandoning the town. Do you know why? Because he was never alone. A was helping him from the beginning. I got involved not too long after B's beginning. B needs help. I need help. We all need help. We know we sometimes have to ask for help. That's why we are still alive. 

RR: RH died.

N: Yes, he did. Even together, it is hard to survive in Gotham.

RR: Then, why are you not in Gotham?

N: Bludhaven also needed help.

RR: Are you too scared of this dumb city? I did not take you for such a coward. I am not a coward like you. I fear nothing. 

N: Don't write things like that. It sounds like a low budget movie line foreshadowing something bad happening to you. 

RR: What are you talking about?

N: Next time I come to Gotham, we are watching horror movies together.

RR: Is this the Disney-thing you threatened to watch with BB and me?

N: Nope. Hey, that's an even better idea!

RR: I do not have time for your stupid ideas. My presence for dinner is required. 

Red Robin has disconnected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kids are really a handful, especially 'Batkids'. 
> 
> The breakfast went well enough with Jason, Steph, Tim, Damian, Bruce and Alfred. How could the combinaison of Steph, Tim, Damian, Cass, Bruce, Lex and Alfred be worse?


	7. Gambit-Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple dinner. Warning: lots of talk about business principles and corporations. I guess that counts as intellectual foreplay?

Steph hated being a pawn in a game.

Whether it was her dad's or Batman's doing, it didn't matter; she hated it and she was smart enough to realize when people tried to play games with her.

Which is why she especially hated Lex Luthor. 

She knew enough of him to know his crushing arrogance was like her dad's and that his chess game foresight was similar to Batman's. All in all, it was not a pleasant combination. 

From the moment she had felt his calculating eyes rest on her and Cass, she had intuitively known she hated the guy. 

And Bruce was in love with Lex. 

Gross.

It was the remains-of-a-split-opened-head-with-parts-of-the-brain spilt-everywhere kind of gross. 

Steph had thought it would have been fun tonight, not gross. Unfortunately, she had remembered the biggest issue with that star-cross ridiculous romance. Tim.

Tim, the lovable dork who could recite all of the (original) Star Trek's dialogue, liked hanging out with Lex, the megalomaniac who wanted to take over the world.

That was peachy. 

Steph had always liked Tim. Not like like. Just like. Well... maybe like like, but that wasn't a 100% certain.

The only thing she really knew for sure was that she and Tim had a certain affinity and they worked well together. 

She had always been sure her friend was a good and talented person who was fun and clever. Unfortunately, over her time as Spoiler, she also saw glimpses here and there of his darkness. 

In fact, she had figured out just how deep and overwhelming its presence was a year and a half ago when Tim had almost been seduced by Ra's Al Ghul to help him out for the good of the world. Although Tim had chosen not to follow the crazy cult leader into madness, Steph had seen the hesitation in his stance ever since. It was then she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Tim liked power. 

From Steph's point of view, for all of Batman's considerable flaws (mostly emotional immaturity, an overwhelming sense of guilt and responsibility, workaholic and incapacity of communicating in a healthy way with other individuals), he did not like power. He used power like a Batarang; it was another tool for achieving his means, not a goal. He was an expert at the power game (which Steph always hated) with his subtle psychological manipulations, yet, he did not revel in power.

Tim was not mired in the same emotional molasses that kept trapping Batman, but he had his own personal problems. 

For one, he liked power, not only as a means to an end but also for its own sake.

Ra's knew this and had previously tried to exploit it. He had almost succeeded, a year and a half ago, in his endeavours. Steph had no doubt Lex also knew Tim's flaw and would try to take advantage of it. 

Was Bruce blind to all of that? she had to ask herself as she watched Cass showing her newest dance moves. Steph shook her bad thoughts out. 

"You look like a butterfly when you do those moves!" She exclaimed.

Cass gave a small smile Steph had come to recognize as a question asking what was on her friend's mind. 

Steph sighed; there was no way to avoid her friend's superb body reading's skills. 

"I don't like him," Steph explained to the friend who had just taken a seat beside her. Cass cocked her head. 

Steph drew her arms around her legs, "I think he will hurt Tim and you again."

Cass blinked as if she couldn't understand what Steph had meant. Maybe she didn't. Although Cass had been a dangerous killer, in some ways, she had a surprisingly childlike innocence. 

"Because he's a real villain. Greedy. Power-hungry. He's nothing like you," Steph tried to explain. 

Cass nodded but indicated the word Bruce with her hands. 

Steph looked at Cass's extraordinary clear eyes. There was so much trust in them that Steph didn't want to murk it up with explanations about agendas and complicated differences. Bruce wouldn't want to hurt Tim. It didn't mean his infatuation wouldn't blind him to his lover's dangerous appeal to the dark side for a teenager. Besides, falling in love with someone could be selfish. Otherwise, why had her own mother chosen such a bad partner who didn't care about his daughter and wife?

Steph wouldn't let Bruce make the same mistake her mother had done. She wouldn't let Tim nor Cass get hurt. 

Cass still looked confused at her reasoning. 

Steph smiled at her, "Come. We are going to make sure we have proof Bruce is in love with Lex, and we are going to put an end to it!" With that, Steph stood up and offered her hand to Cass. Her friend accepted the help (it had taken her a long time to figure out giving a hand was not a threat) and followed her to the table downstairs. 

***  
Meanwhile...

"Alfred, why is Steph here?" Bruce had waited until Lex had been out of the living room before questioning his butler.

Alfred arched an eyebrow, "She has received an open invitation to attend any meals in the Manor."

Alfred's ward furrowed his eyebrows at the statement, "Was it Tim?"

The butler explained, "It was on your behalf I extended the invitation."

Bruce glared at him, "Why would you do that?"

"After the Lensington incident, it seemed you wanted to thank her for her help, yet you failed to give the appropriate thanks. I merely provided her with the invitation you wish you were brave enough to extend." 

Bruce quietly observed his butler, nonetheless, Alfred could sense his internal panic at rational talk veering into the 'emotional' territory. 

"Furthermore," Alfred added, "She certainly adds some much-needed animation in the Manor." Bruce flinched at the statement insinuating his lack of leadership on the family life front. 

Alfred knew he had to serve reminders to his ward to get even better at parenting. Bruce's deep compassion and empathy pushed him to take in orphans, but his deep-rooted communication issues and vast fear of loss gave him a hard time when it came to actually raise children. Bruce had to become a better father since many of them were very vulnerable to bad influences and violence. 

The butler almost felt bad at guilt-tripping his ward, but he knew it had to be done for the family situation to get better. Bruce was slowly learning how to praise. Now, if he could just manage an emotional conversation, that would be even better. Small steps at a time, that was what was needed. 

Gotham may need Batman; his family needed Bruce. Unfortunately, in Alfred's humble opinion, Bruce was blind to the necessity of his civilian identity. 

On that front, Alfred had to be grateful for Lex's involvement. 

In the past month, Lex had taken advantage of Bruce's natural suspicion of him by coming to the Manor on Alfred's or Tim's invitation. Since Bruce was thoroughly wary of Lex doing some underhanded tactics, he had to be present each time for at least an hour to evaluate the situation. 

Alfred was glad his suggestion to Lex had been followed so thoroughly. Using Bruce's paranoia against him was one of Alfred's better ideas and it certainly forced him to spend more time upstairs.

Alfred headed upstairs to advise Tim and Damian dinner was ready to be served. Thankfully, he had taught the boys a lesson the last time they had started a food fight. They probably wouldn't be stupid enough to start one now.

***

When Tim came downstairs, everyone else was seated in their usual spots: Bruce at the head, Damian to his left, Cass to Damian's left, Steph to Cass left while Lex sat at the seat at the right of Bruce. It was obvious they were all waiting for Tim to start the meal. The teenager took his seat at Lex's right and Alfred entered and started serving the hors-d'oeuvre: glazed tofu bites with peanuts and ginger. The food was gingerly eaten, with only polite and impersonal conversation taken place.

Then, came in the salmon and asparagus plate that had become one of Tim's favourite meal since he had started living in the Manor.

Everyone started on their's without further ado. Tim glanced at Damian and was relieved to see their mealtime truce was still being respected. 

"Mmmm," Steph couldn't help moan out as she finished her first bite. Cass approved with a nod and Damian approved by not responding; he had nothing bad to say about it, so he must be thinking the food was fine. Tim's eyes then wandered to rest on pensive Bruce and calculating Lex eating. 

"Lex," Bruce's word cut through the gastronomic experience like a steak knife in soft butter, "I heard your business was going better than ever." 

Lex grinned insincerely, "In the last while, I have had more time than ever to invest in it. Of course, it would improve."

"And, why would that be?" Bruce asked, his hands busy cutting his salmon with a fork and knife. There was an implied question in it, nonetheless, Tim couldn't figure it out.

Lex looked at the rest of the table participants and answered, "I'm the smartest man in the world and I know how to improve a business. The basic technique revolves around the profitability; the rest is details. Everything comes down to the bottom line. Did you think it was something else?"

Damian's eyes shined with intent, "What did you do to increase your profitability in that short amount of time?"

Lex sipped wine and answered, "I lower the cost of production by finding out where every penny of my business goes to. You would be surprised how much people think they can get away with. That's the first step. Finding any leaks, be it fraud or useless employees, and getting rid of them."

"And?" Tim prompted, impatient since the explanation was too simple to be complete. 

"I also improved our patents to use another material for some of our inventions. In others, I fixed calculation errors some of my less diligent employees have done. Then, I negotiate lower prices for the cost of production or the assembly costs. In most cases, I lowered the price of my products and increased their efficiency. I didn't really need to increase efficiency, but I liked the challenge."

"Why wouldn't the efficiency matter?" Steph asked, curiously, though Tim could see she was waiting for an occasion to start a fight with Lex. 

Lex arched an eyebrow in an insult, "Because I have the monopoly on most of my products."

Steph furrowed her brows and Damian turned to her, "Brown, it is the basic of basics in economic principles. If you have the monopoly of a service or product, you can charge people as much as they are desperate for the product. It seems to be true that this country's educational system is not even adequate."

"Don't you have competitors?" Steph replied to Lex with some simmering anger in her tone, while completely ignoring Damian. 

"I do," Lex answered as he finished cutting his salmon. 

As Lex didn't pursue his reasoning, Tim decided to insert the explanation, "Steph, Lex is the majority shareholder for most of his competitors' businesses, meaning, he makes all of their important decisions while giving the appearances of choices to the customers. Lex is, in fact, becoming richer even if you boycott his products with his rivals'. He doesn't need to give good quality services or product. It's like the airplane business in the States. No matter how bad the services provided is, most people don't have much choice of companies. Furthermore, a lot of those service providers have the same owner, meaning boycotting is increasingly difficult if you need to use an airplane."

Steph nodded distractedly in his direction before turning to Lex, "Is that what you mean? That you enrich yourself by making a literal game of monopoly with people's lives in which you own all the properties?"

Lex glanced at Bruce, "I'm not the only one. Bruce may be hailed as a Wayne and Oliver as a Queen, but they are simply more hypocrites about their sources of income."

"I will not stand for you calling my father a hypocrite," Damian glared at the bald man with eyes that could have melted a glacier. Unfortunately for him, Lex was not impressed. 

"Bruce's workers have better job security than yours and Bruce offers them many ways of saving for their kids' education or their own retirement. Wayne Entreprises also substantially funds many charity foundations. Lexcorps does not even contribute close to 20% of the charity amount Wayne Entreprises does. Moreover, Lexcorps and your other secret corporations are fraught with unethical behaviour that often gets punished by the law. It is not the same," Tim enumerated. He knew those were true since he had recently studied the differences between their corporations. 

Lex waved one hand away, "That's details. Yes, Bruce may pay better his employees and he may pay more to charity. It doesn't change that corporations are made to make more profit and that monopoly is one of the surest ways of attaining it. Big Corporations like Lexcorps and Wayne Entreprises function on the same basic principles. They naturally eat their weaker rivals and the shareholders naturally want more profit. Notwithstanding any damages the corporations do, the ones who profit are not the ones responsible for any of the unethical acts the corporation does as long as they were not aware." Tim was all too aware of that last rule. Lex always used that loophole to escape any personal legal action, especially since there was no way to retrace how a manager of one of his corporations had received the order to do something illegal. At worst, Lex's corporation had to file for bankruptcy (which didn't affect Lex personally). At best, the manager was replaced and the circle could be continued.

For the first time since the beginning of the conversation, Bruce interjected something, "Corporations were not always seen as tools to distance the owner from responsibility. In fact, it was seen as a means to combine resources to accomplish something an owner or association couldn't do alone. It helped build our nation's railroad system. It can work in that way again. It simply needs to be fixed."

Lex sneered in his direction, "How will you fix it? It is true the government has the power to change it, but corporations are the more important lobbyists and they are strong enough to sway the government's representatives in their direction. It won't change soon and probably never. You may say what you want: underneath your more ethical veneer, there is not much difference between Wayne Entreprises and Lexcorps."

There was a brief silence. Everyone was now finishing their salads after the excellent steak main course. Tim knew this particular salad was a great recipe he normally enjoyed, yet it tasted bitter in his mouth.

"The difference is the intent," Steph affirmed with certainty, "Yes, there is something broken with our way of doing things that leaves so much of us behind, but, truthfully, lacking the way to fix this, what we really need is compassion." There was an accusing gleam in her eyes as she glared at Lex. 

"Compassion," Lex repeated as he leaned forward, "That's your solution?" 

Steph gestured to him, "That's what distinguishes evil from good." The insult was transparent and Tim had to appreciate that you had to admire his friend's guts to confront Lex on his ideas. 

Lex leaned even more forward, a strangely attentive gaze on Steph. It looked like he was a cat playing with a mouse. Tim's stomach churned at that idea. 

"Is it really?" Lex asked. 

"Yes," Steph answered with conviction. 

"Just to make sure I understand, do you mean compassion or love?" Lex replied. Tim's instincts all told him it was a trap, even though part of himself was wondering whether Lex was talking about Bruce's love for him. Bruce was frowning at Lex while Damian and Cass were attentively looking from Lex and Steph with potent observation powers.

Steph hesitated, glancing in Bruce's direction, "Love may be the more exact word."

Lex knew then and there he could win, although he was still perplexed by why Stephanie had glanced in Bruce's direction at her answer about love.

He was happy Stephanie had gone into the emotional ground. Even if Lex hated talking about stupid feelings, he knew it was his best chance to make a lasting impression against Bruce in preparation for the real negotiations happening after dinner. The bald man had gained enough knowledge in his years as a villain and a businessman extraordinaire to know negotiations started long before each party started talking about what was being exchanged. 

Lex had meant it when he had told Bruce hospitability was a way to impress the other party into submission. The Gothamite had the home ground advantage in his parents' house, but it was also a two-headed knife since Bruce was weak to emotional attacks and everything here was much more personal. 

It was blessing in disguise Stephanie Brown had been here to steer the conversation into areas none of the other members would have dared to go into. 

"That's strange," Lex answered her, knowing he was slowly raising the intensity of the conversation as dessert was served.

The blonde teenager glared at him, waiting for his insult, "What? Because you don't know what that is? Nobody has ever loved you until now? Is that what you are so embarrassed about? Then again, I doubt you know how to return someone's love." 

Lex ignored her incoherent babbling. Bruce certainly didn't tell anyone Lex loved him, since, knowing how he thought, Lex doubted Bruce believed it himself. Alfred was discreet. Tim could maybe have guessed it, but what Stephanie had said wasn't consistent with reality. Therefore, she was probably only trying to get a reaction out of him. "Good is not characterized by good intent and emotions and evil is not characterized by hatred, greed and revenge. That's a false premise."

"Why would you say that?"

"I know a villain who is guided by love," Lex answered, savouring the tension. Bruce frowned even more at his statement as if he knew what was coming. Maybe he did. He was the most clever man Lex had ever met (only because he couldn't meet himself, but still...).

Steph arched an eyebrow, "You?"

"No. Not me. I am greedy, revengeful and hateful. But this villain I am talking about has a protagonist who is filled with hatred," Lex continued as Bruce opened his mouth, "Stop."

Lex glanced at Bruce. There wasn't much weakness in his stance or stormy blue eyes but, then again, he almost never let weaknesses on display. There was much to admire about him, Lex thought almost kindly. Let's see how he surmounts this obstacle. 

"Who is this villain?" Tim interrupted the rapidly intensifying staring contest. 

"Don't you know?" Lex asked, playing with his wine glass's stem, "I thought you and your clan studied all of them. It must be evident if you think about it a little."

"Quit playing games. One Riddler is enough in this city," Steph pushed. Lex almost liked her abrasiveness and directness. It was refreshing in a way he had not often experienced.

"It's evidently Gotham's bad jester and Gotham's good knight," Lex answered. 

The reaction was worthwhile. Damian and Cass frown in consternation while Steph and Tim gaped at him. Bruce's shoulders tensed.

"What are you talking about?" Tim asked, clearly flustered by the conversation, "Joker hates Batman."

Lex leaned back to enjoy the slowly derailing conversation, "I have met Joker enough to know his true motivation is not hatred, nor greed nor revenge. He loves chaos, Gotham and Batman but not necessarily in that order." Lex linked his hands together, waiting for this situation to continue to unfold.

Bruce stood unmoving from his spot, yet, Lex observed him clenching his wine glass in frustration. Now, that's how you gained an upper hand, Lex congratulated himself for the emotional strike. 

"That makes no sense," Damian protested, "If he loves Batman, why would he want to kill him?"

"He does not really want to kill him," Lex answered, eyes darting in Bruce's direction.

"Is it true, Bruce?" Steph asked very doubtfully. 

Good, Lex thought, ask him his opinion of Joker, that's going even better than if he had scripted the entire scene. 

Bruce's eyes finally left Lex's profile to concentrate on Steph's, "It's true Joker doesn't really seem to want Batman's death."

"But that he does what he does for love?" Steph questioned. 

Bruce sighed, "I don't pretend to understand how madmen think." 

That was the thing. 

Lex knew Bruce understood exactly how madmen thought. He had trained himself to do so. He had as good as admitted he knew Lex's hateful obsession with Superman was love turned sour. 

Bruce had to know that someone's capacity to hate was intricately linked with their capacity for love because it sprung from the same well. If you could measure someone's capacity for love, you would also know their capacity for hatred. 

According to all the facts Lex had gathered about Bruce, his ability to love was very powerful. In turn, Batman's hatred of Joker was also heightened. He hated Joker so much he couldn't kill him because that would mean Joker had won. 

Lex knew Batman knew Lex knew about the profound darkness Bruce couldn't admit he possessed. It was an obsession, different in nature from Lex's betrayed love, but similar in intensity. Both of them knew how addicting its burn was. 

The difference lay in their individual attitude, be it concerning their businesses or their extracurriculars. 

Bruce had repressed that darkness, hoping nobody would guess its existence while Lex had let his burn as bright as the morning sun. 

If they were to ally themselves, Lex knew he couldn't Bruce have all the moral high ground. It would be dangerous for Lex Luthor to let Bruce dictate all the conditions. He had to show how they weren't so different in nature after all. Furthermore, some compromises could be reached between them if they both accepted the other's flaws. 

Bruce abruptly invited Lex for coffee in his study, stalling any further interrogation concerning the Joker and Batman. 

The glare he sent Lex's way rewarded his efforts for impact. He truly didn't leave Bruce indifferent (which was one of the reactions he feared most) and it did not provide enough excuses for Bruce to cut ties as it was simply a hypothetical situation. Lex's plan for the opening of this game had gone fantastically well. 

***

Black Canary (BC hereafter): O, do you still have issues with your information network?

O: Yes. there are multiple issues with it. It seems to be misinforming us.

BC: Is it another hacker?

O: I doubt it. There are not many who could rival my skills at a computer and those who can have difficulty surpassing me by this much. 

BC: Magic?

O: Possible, but doubtful. Zatanna already quickly checked on it.

BC: What does that leave us with?

O: My current favourite theory is alien technology. 

BC: But how could it be smuggled in? The first touristic ships are not due for months. 

O: Alien bounty hunters have been sighted and arrested on Earth since the Lobo incident. 

BC: But why would they aim for a city and not the civilian living in it?

O: Maybe, they tried dealing with someone local to help them or they were too arrogant and got killed or captured. That would certainly explain why Gotham.

BC: And why is that?

O: Whoever the alien or aliens were, they were trying to catch Bruce Wayne on which a bounty was placed. That is why it is Gotham. They may also have allied themselves to someone in Gotham, although it wouldn't explain why they are messing with Batman's information system by leaking false reports of Joker. I think it more likely a villain murdered the aliens and used their technology to reduce our informational system.

BC: That's bad.

O: Very. We need as much accurate information to operate properly as we do not have abilities to go fast from one place to another. Our patrol routine is based on the information we draw from the network. If that information is compromised, in the long run, this will cause dozens of lives lost that we could have prevented. Casualties in named villains'fights will also be considerably higher. In the meantime, I am mostly blind.

BC: I know how frustrated you are with problems like this. Have you slept in the past few days?

O: A few hours here and there. I'm not as unreasonable as Batman.

BC: No, but you are as stubborn if not more.

O: I swear on my name of Oracle, I will get to the bottom of this mystery. Alien technology or not, nobody messes with me on my playing field without being chastised appropriately.

BC: I believe you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you wondering why Steph seems so ignorant compared to the others, please bear in mind she is a good student, not an overachiever like Damian and Tim who are in grades above their age groups. I do think she is smart because she is quick to find fondamental flaws in the economic system. 
> 
> Steph's fear of being a pawn in the hero-villain war is pretty canon. She sees enough of Batman's manipulation to understand he is playing a game with his Batfamily as pieces. Even if she does not completely condemn that view of the world, she intensively dislikes it.
> 
> Steph's intuition is top notch, altough her misunderstandings concerning Bruce being in love with Lex are kind of funny. Cass is still completely confused about that part.
> 
> As for Lex's apology to Cass, he did give it to her before Damian and Tim entered the room. It was brief but to the point.
> 
> If you are wondering what is going on with Oracle's network and the person or group having murdered Joker's henchmen, don't worry, some action is coming up in that quarter (not in the next chapter exactly) but soon enough.


	8. Gambit-Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negotiations.

Lex decided he liked Bruce's study.

Elegance, efficiency and simplicity were put to the forefront with only some careful reminders of sentimentality. There was also a certain delicacy well hidden to all but the most observant humans. For example, most would simply notice the famous Wayne portrait hanging on the wall. It would take a particular mind to realize the grandfather clock was the real attraction in this room. The clock as such was superb workmanship and almost flawless wood, yet, what attracted Lex's eyes was the obvious tear and wear of the object as if generations of children had played with the old clock and broken it numerous times only to be repaired by their parents'workers. It felt a token of happier times to Lex, something he hadn't really known since his mother's tragic death.

In the Manor, where almost all public space was memorials dedicated to the dead (except for the kitchen, of course), this subtle reminder was painfully put where the guest's eye would subconsciously catch it first.

After carefully examining the room, Lex turned to Bruce observing him with eerie concentration. Earlier in the evening, Lex had torn apart the appearance of a truce by talking about Joker and Batman. Bruce was providing him with a demonstration of his very real animosity and wariness. It was an unpleasant reminder it would take much manoeuvring and patience to train to gain his heart. The businessman had to remind himself he could do so. Besides, in the meantime, he could still have some interesting mind games.

"Sit," Bruce ordered, all semblance of courtesy completely gone from his voice. The proud man following his parents' hospitability traditions had morphed into the calculating Batman before Lex's very eyes. The bald man also felt ashamed he was the reason for the changes. Fortunately, Lex was not a man who wallowed in sentimentality, contrary to Bruce.

Lex sat in front of Bruce, gauging Batman's calm demeanour. He could feel the tension rising, something completely different from earlier in the evening.

"You spoke confidently about Joker," Bruce said, his fingers interlaced above his desk.

Lex knew he was being questioned despite the lack of a question,"I did."

The other man continued staring at him in silence for a drawn-out moment, "The last time you tried working with him was two years ago."

Lex grimaced at the reminder. Working with Joker was always a gambit; sometimes, his brilliant craziness could outmatch any superhero with its dazzling fondness of chaos, at other times, Joker would clog Lex's genius plan with so much artifice, it defeated its purpose. The last time they had worked together, it was more of the latter option than the first.

"And you swore you would not work with him anymore," Batman continued.

Lex quirked an eyebrow. He had only told that to Mercy and she was not crazy enough to betray her to Batman. Evidently, Batman's information network was even better than he had given him credit for, which was quite upsetting because Lex had already allocated him much credit.

Lex took complete control of his armchair's arms, "I did. I didn't work with him after that incident."

Batman continued staring at him without so much as blinking. Lex almost wanted to shift in the chair, nevertheless, he knew better than to show weakness to a predator like Batman.

"You don't have any information to offer about his current whereabouts."

There was another obvious question in the statement. Batman clearly didn't know how to use the question mark.

"I don't," Lex confirmed.

Batman simply continued staring as unabashedly as before. Lex really needed some kind of distraction to give his eyes a rest of not blinking for a few minutes. Bruce must have trained himself not to blink for hours.

Lex's eye caught the old wood finished chess board carefully forgotten above the shelf, "Shall we play?"

Batman nodded, thus officially starting their negotiation talk.

Bruce carefully fetched the board without turning his back once in Lex's direction. Lex had to grin at Bruce's display and its symbolic significance.

The board was placed on the desk and Lex brought his chair closer to the desk to have easier access to the pieces. He noted the good-but-not-quite-good-enough quality of the chess set for a notoriously distinguished family such as the Waynes. It had to be sentimentality.

"White or black?"

"Black," Batman answered.

"What a surprise," Lex replied to catch the other man's attention. Batman frowned at him as he turned the board.

Instead of commenting on how black was Batman's go-to colour while royal blue was Bruce's, Lex decided to speak more metaphorically, "Superheroes are always playing black: they never have the initiative. They wait until the villains do something wrong before they even intervene. The villains, on the other hand, are the ones who choose the time to start the game." He left the 'isn't it boring to have your actions dictated by villains?' unsaid.

Bruce levelled a serious look at him, "That's what being a superhero means. It means being better than the villain."

Lex wanted to grin. There weren't many people who were not intimidated enough to taunt him to his face. Moreover, it was a perfect continuation of their dinner's conversation about the differences between them.

Lex pushed a pawn to the center of the board, "It means being passive."

Bruce answered with a pawn countering in the center, "It isn't passivity. It means a lot of waiting and preparation."

They play the next moves in silence. "Maybe for you, it doesn't," Lex relented as he brought his second bishop to play. He saw Bruce stilling as he was waiting for the strike. Lex would not have agreed with him this easily otherwise.

Bruce moved his hand to take his king to castle. Just as his hand took the king in hand, Lex continued, "But the others don't work like you, do they?"

Lex could see the unflappable determination in Batman's stance as he castled. The pieces were almost all in place to serve a plan of attack. The opening had officially ended.

Bruce looked at him, prompting him to continue his thoughts.

"Maybe Green Arrow does a bit. But your Atlantis king playing hero? Your man-hating female superhero? Or your kid Flash pretending to be his mentor?" Lex pushed a rook to a semi-opened file, "They must be bad collaborators most of the times, especially since both the king and the princess have completely different agendas than yours. Aren't they, risks to the integrity of your plans? And," Lex paused, "let's not even talk about the 'altruistic' aliens comfortably sitting on your little Justice League council."

"We should," Bruce pushed another pawn forward after deliberating for some time, "Talk about calculated risks. Those aliens, as you say, have been helping us for a long time. Can you say the same about your associates?"

It was an attack on several levels.

Lex had been stabbed (literally and figuratively) by his villain associates and his business associates so often he didn't trust anyone, not even Mercy, not to betray him in any circumstances. Bruce was clearly implying superheroes made better allies than villains did.

"In that case," Lex replied, starting a slow manoeuvre of one of his knight to a perfect square, "Shouldn't I choose my enemies with more care than my associates? The Justice League do not kill. Most people would be willing to do so to accomplish their goals."

Bruce looked at the board for some time before pushing a rook to the center files, "You made Superman, the strongest power on Earth, your enemy and you have publicly declared you doubted he will continue to stay an honourable and restrained person."

That was dirty, Lex thought, as he lowered his head to study the situation on the board. Things were developing so interestingly. An attack was imminent on either parties' side. The timing was everything.

It was clear Bruce knew Lex arbored strong yearning for Superman. He was digging Lex's reasons for being a supervillain. Lex had told everyone at the table he was hateful, greedy and revengeful, but Lex knew Bruce knew the truth behind those statements: Lex was greedy because he still wanted some things; he was hateful because he wasn't who he was supposed to be; he was revengeful because his heart had broken over Clark Kent.

Lex looked up to see Batman concentrating on the board with hawkish intensity. He remembered how Bruce had looked when he had been hit by the fear toxins and had asked for Lex's help. A small boy frightened and alone in the dark forest filled with monsters.

At that moment, Lex could see Batman was still that vulnerable boy. Despite his mature appearance, underneath all his buster, Bruce loved to play games seriously and hated to lose exactly like a competitive child would. He didn't like villains twisting innocent children's games with bloodshed and loss of life.

Lex observed his opponent and he did want to be on the same side as him, but he didn't believe it was an easy thing to do. He knew enough of his possessive impulses to know he hated Superman too much and loved Batman too much (although he didn't want to admit it even to himself) to 'help' the Justice League without doing something particularly foolish like using the League's resources to permanently removed Clark from the picture.

In truth, Lex knew he would eventually accept to collaborate with the Justice League.

First of all, Lex understood he needed to protect Earth against the alien invasions that were sure to come and no organization was better suited to help him do so than the Justice League.

Second, he was curious about their resources and decision-making process. It would also permit him to gather intelligence about their relationships with each other, although it was clear Batman's relationship with almost all of the others were strained, almost irrevocably so.

Thirdly, it was a good way to get involved in all of Bruce's life aspects: his businessman's, his playboy's, his vigilante's and his family man's. The more involved he was, the harder it would be for Bruce to shut him off as he was likely to do at some point or another. It also gave him a better chance to become closer.

Finally, it offered him the chance to oversee what Superman and the others were up to. Lex had purposely said heroes were always playing black at chess; it wasn't necessarily true, they played black until they changed side. It simply meant Superman might one day be tempted or controlled to change sides. The same applied to the Amazon, the Atlante and the Martian. The humans, Green Lantern, Green Arrow, Black Canary, Flash and Batman were less likely to go against 'humankind's interest in Lex's calculations.

Lex knew he would accept to help the Justice League, but he wanted to negotiate the most out of the deal. That was a basic businessman principle.

"You seem to imply, Bruce, that I should watch over Superman's behaviour as an ally and not an enemy?"

Bruce continued to concentrate on the game, seemingly impervious to Lex's stare, "It would certainly give you better data to make informed decisions."

"Aren't you scared I will use that information against him?" Lex teased, knowing the man was hopelessly in love with Clark Kent.

Bruce lifted his head and looked him over, not verbally answering the question.

Bruce lowered his head back to the chess board and grabbed one of his knights to capture a pawn. Lex double checked the situation and captured the knight back with a pawn. Another black piece took over the square.

"Two central pawns for a knight? You are normally less reckless than that," Lex commented, recalculating the position. Normally, a knight was worth three pawns, not two. The fact Bruce had exchanged a piece at a lower value for strategical advantages was not lost on Lex.

Bruce fixed his eyes on Lex's, "Sometimes, not making a gambit is riskier than making one." The bald man grinned at the barely disguised challenge in the brunette's tone. That was how you made a negotiation proposal, Lex thought with admiration.

"Sometimes," Lex agreed, moving another rook to the center files in order to attack Bruce's two dangerous central pawns, "A gambit is good. You can't let the opponent have the initiative all the time, can you? It would go against your beliefs."

Bruce moved his king out of the open diagonal squares, "It is important to know what can be sacrificed and what needs to be protected." Lex quirked an eyebrow at the other man apparently attempting to lecture him on how to be a hero.

"You want me to help the Justice League for several reasons," Lex moved another piece to put pressure on Bruce's chessboard position.

Bruce nodded, "Extraterrestrial threats to Earth are soon to be here."

"And we both foresaw that possibility," Lex continued gauging his opponent, "You started a deal to protect Earth against their likes. You calculated this planet's chances and its assets and liabilities. You don't like our chances. I don't blame you. I did the same. No organization on Earth is ready to fight them efficiently the threats, especially since we are missing key information. You finally decided to present your plan of defence to the Justice League to get them prepared, but you know it is not enough." Lex paused.

Bruce made another move, "You contacted various legitimate and illegitimate governmental organizations and you arrived at the same conclusion. We are not ready for those threats."

"You calculated the Justice League members have the lowest chance of survival because of their visibility and job description," Lex pursued.

"And you the highest," Bruce added.

Lex leaned back, "That's your conclusion?"

"You are a survivor. You know all the ways to survive the apocalypse. I doubt if Metropolis exploding around you tomorrow would even kill you."

Lex almost smiled at the comment, "You think I am a cockroach? From what I heard, that description is better used on you. You are a weak human, yet, nothing destroys you. You'll have to tell me what you want from me for me to accept." It was the crux of the game. One false move and it would change the outcome. Would Bruce be able to push his pawns to promotion or would Lex managed to gobble them up and be done of the threat?

Bruce nodded, "I need the best biologist on the planet to help us vaccinate everyone."

Lex gestured him to continue his list.

Bruce glared at him, yet, he went on, "I need the smartest man on the planet to help heighten our chances of survival."

Lex grinned at the annoyance Bruce was displaying at admitting Lex was the smartest man on Earth.

"I need the man who has the right contacts with the wrong people all over the world," Bruce admitted.

"You need someone to sign deals with this world's devils," Lex clarified, sure of his hold over Bruce, "You would do it, but Batman has been associated so long with the Justice League it would tarnish the Justice League's reputation. And you know the Justice League's hands should stay clean if they are trying to be everyone's symbol of hope and goodness. I, on the other hand, has had a dubious reputation since the start."

Lex Luthor had inherited his father's bad reputation whereas Bruce had inherited his parents' good reputation. No matter what Lex did, everyone expected him to do wrong. No matter what Bruce did, everyone expected him to be good, even if he were stupid.

In a way, Lex knew it was further pressure on Bruce, another way he was being alienated since Bruce was condemned to be compared negatively to his parents the rest of his life. It was evident, now that Lex knew Bruce, that Bruce suffered from antisocial behaviour that made it unlikely he would ever wade across social gatherings with the same ease his mother naturally had.

Lex, on the other hand, was hated since nobody had liked his father and Lex couldn't really blame them. He had killed his own father because of how difficult the man was.

Lex thought wryly that people's expectations of Bruce and himself were failing to completely chain them. That was why they were survivors in this world. They could defy the odds time and again and win.

"That's not all," Lex prompted the other man facing him in the gothic study of his ancestor.

Bruce nodded and leaned back, thus mirroring Lex's position in his chair, "The League and the world needs technology advancement in leaps we have never seen before. We need financial resources, experts and manpower."

Lex waited and saw no continuation so he grinned and pressed his advantage, "What do I get out of this possible collaboration?"

Bruce observed him through his eyelashes, brilliance and determination shining in his pupils, "You ensure the safety of your home planet. You get information about alien civilizations. You get to collaborate with the Justice League. You get much more reliable associates that are much less likely to stab you in the back as long as you don't do it first."

"I don't think I need to enhance my curriculum vitae with the title of Justice League collaborator," Lex answered,"but, I want to make sure you are telling me the League will exchange information with me."

Bruce eyed him warily, "If the League accepts your nomination, there will have to be an exchange of information. It would save everyone time and resources. The information offered to you will, of course, be restricted."

"The longer my time with the League, the higher my clearance should be," Lex straightened to make his move and sat back again.

"That could be negotiated into said agreement," Batman answered, not batting an eyelash as he moved a pawn forward.

"I might not become official Justice League member, but I should be able to attend your meetings," Lex added.

Batman nodded, "Your access would be limited, nonetheless, it would be useless to bar you from the meetings since you will be needed to coordinate with the other members."

Lex pondered for a bit on the subject, before apparently distractedly making a move on the chessboard, and replying, "What of Superman?"

Batman shifted in his chair, "You will not attack him physically nor order attacks on him."

"How will you know if I break that clause?" Lex asked, more by curiosity than anything else.

"I will know," Batman growled and it resonated like a threat to Lex's ears.

"You will have to cooperate with each other eventually," Batman pursued, "But I'll make sure you are not taking advantage of your position. I won't let you act like a scorpion in Aesop's tale of the Scorpion and the Frog. If you can't help trying to sting him and drowning you both in the process, I'll make sure you are not a threat."

"You think I'll kill us both?" Lex questioned.

"Stinging Superman may or may not be in your nature. Either way, you will not try anything like that or I'll fly in and ripe you to pieces before you can sting him," Batman pronounced with adamance.

Lex and Batman stared at one another. Lex hated loving him at that moment: all protective and irrational, but for someone Lex deemed his mortal enemy instead of Lex himself. It was strange. Lex had never wanted to be protected before. He had only ever wanted to survive no matter the means. Now, he wanted both to protect the small child that was Bruce and to be protected by the hard man that was Batman. Falling in love sucked as much the second time as the first time, Lex reasoned.

"I can do it," Lex said with more conviction than he truly felt.

Bruce didn't say a word, but his body relaxed at that promise. He made another move on the chessboard and got his hands on this forehead to concentrate on the situation. A kid. He was a real kid, Lex couldn't help thinking fondly even though he normally hated children.

A few moves later, and several suggestions towards the agreement later, the game was over and they were putting back the pieces to their usual position.

"Bruce."

"Uhm?"

"There is a condition I want to be included in order to reach an agreement, even before it is submitted to the Justice League's vote," Lex casually mentioned.

Bruce glared at him. Lex calmly looked at him, knowing full well Bruce would have to agree to his condition to help their chances  
of survival.

"We did discuss stipulations, not conditions on my side. My condition is simple," Lex paused for dramatic effect that was lost on Batman's unmoving figure. With a sigh, Lex finished his statement, "You will have to vouch for me personally to the Justice League."

Bruce opened his mouth, but Lex interrupted him before he could say he didn't trust Lex, "I am not asking you to trust me. I am asking you to tell all your colleagues you trust me."

The distinction between the two was not lost on Batman. Lex knew it had been Batman's plan to present Lex as a possible collaborator by explaining how the alliance was advantageous even though Lex was untrustworthy. Now, Batman would have to say he trusted Lex Luthor in front of the Justice League.

In Lex's mind, it would shock them to their core, especially since Batman was known not to trust anyone. It would start rumours about Batman and Lex working together against Superman.

For Lex, the true advantage would come if he failed as a superhero collaborator. If he did, he would ruin Batman's chances to stay in the Justice League. It forced Batman to make sure Lex didn't stray and it tied their fates together.

Bruce glanced at the game he had won and looked back, a question in his eyes. Lex could see the man was questioning whether Lex had lost on purpose the chess game to gain an advantage in the negotiation. Was it what Lex had planned from the start?

Lex grinned. He was the smartest on the planet and he knew better than to play all of his hand at once.

Bruce simply studied Lex for a moment. There was pride in his eyes, but deep in them, he could see a flicker of hope. Those green eyes looked exactly (though not necessarily physically, even though they were both green) like Damian's when Bruce had gone to visit him at Dick's house in Bludhaven. Neither of them wanted to admit they yearned to get something akin to approval from Bruce, yet, it was not so well hidden Bruce couldn't detect it either. The big difference between the two was that while Damian still seemed to have no clue what Bruce wanted from him, Lex knew Bruce wanted him to be good. It was an ordeal Lex was unsure he could pass. For all of his games, Lex wanted Bruce to believe in him.

Bruce had decided to believe in Damian despite how it strained his relationship with Tim.

The vigilante knew he could probably find a way to wiggle out of Lex's condition. He knew if he accepted it, it might upset his standing with the League.

"Fine. I'll vouch for you at the next League meeting. Don't make me regret it."

The hope crystallized in Lex's eyes. For a brief moment, Bruce almost thought it was worth his gambled reputation. 

His mind then turned to planning the details concerning the next meeting and Lex's cooperation.

***

"Okay, what just happened?" a female voice asked.

"Luthor insulted Father in a ridiculous fashion," a younger voice snapped.

"He meant it," another male voice replied.

"You are wrong as always, Drake. No one in their right mind would believe that Joker was in love with Father. Besides, Mother is the only one for him anyway."

"Uh, I don't want to burst your bubble, Dami, but didn't you notice all the special attention Bruce was giving Lex tonight?"

There was a slight pause before a growling voice replied, "Are you insinuating Father is courting a lowly Luther when he is my Mother's Beloved?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Demon Kid, Talia and Bruce are not exactly seeing eye to eye at this moment," an older male's voice answered.

"Nonsense. They are simply pursuing their own goals independently. When they achieve them, they will run the world together."

Steph and Tim looked at one another before Steph asked Damian a question almost softly, "Have you spoken about Bruce about his relationship with your mother or about his goals?"

"It would be foolish to do so," Damian answered, "and he is much too busy secretly controlling the world to explain things I wholly understand."

At that, Cass motioned Damian for some sparing and both disappeared in the gym's direction without another word.

"I think Bruce has a lot to explain," Steph finally said, still watching the direction Damian had disappeared to.

"About Lex or Talia?" Tim answered.

"Why does he only love villains?," Steph sighed.

Tim shrugged, "Maybe it's easier not to feel guilty when he ineludibly ruins the relationship."

***

RH: Enough is enough.

N: What are you talking about?

RH: Why are you answering?

N: You texted me first? For the first time ever. Sniff. I'm proud of you finally learning how to initiate a batchat with me.

RH: F*ck. I thought I had sent a text to Arsenal.

N: You say that, but I know you didn't make a mistake. RH never makes mistakes. Remember?

RH: ... At least, I always know how to fix them.

Red Hood has disconnected. 

N (sends text anyway): Brooooo...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time, Bruce and Lex play a literal game of chess. I couldn't help myself.
> 
> I hope you liked this 'Negotiation' arc. It will evidently have consequences later in the story as more pressing issues will divert the attention on the short term.
> 
> Note:  
> The Scorpion and the Frog story is taken from canon Bruce Wayne and Lex Luthor's interaction. Lex Luthor confronts Bruce in his home to prove he is Batman. He does so by exploding the clock hiding the entrance to the cave. Then, he says he won't use Bruce's identity against him. He only wants to join the Justice League. Bruce calls it blackmail and talks about the Scorpion and the Frog story. 
> 
> Basically, it is a fable about a scorpion who asked a frog to carry him across the pond. The frog initially refuses, saying he knows the scorpion will sting him to death. The scorpion says he won't since if the frog drowns, he will also drown. The frog carries the scorpion on its back and gets stung midway to the other side and asks why. The scorpion says he couldn't help himself: it was his nature. Both die. Moral: even if it is not in your best interest to do so, it is hard to change.
> 
> Bruce (in canon) insinuates that Lex is the scorpion and Superman, the frog. He also says that he has a different story and, in his story, when the scorpion is on the verge of stinging the frog, a bat flies in and ripes the scorpion to pieces. It is a pretty clear message: don't try to betray Superman even if it is in your nature or I'll remove you as a threat. 
> 
> This chapter is actually the opposite of the canon version: Lex is the one who wants to join the League (in canon) while, in this chapter, Bruce is the one who wants Lex's help. Nonetheless, I really wanted to use the fable. I think it still fits nicely in the story.


	9. Gotham's Princeling Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caution. Discussions of Clark-Hal-Bruce relationship, so, for those of you do not want to read it (even though there is no sex description and nothing explicit), please skip after the Bruce-Alfred's conversation from one set of asterisk until the next set of asterisk.

The day after Lex and Bruce's chess playing evening...

 

"Master Bruce, there is a letter for you."

Bruce knew opening it that Alfred meant a personal letter. All mail was opened by Alfred except for letters that were deemed too personal. It was rare it ever happened and it was always alarming when it did.

The brunette took the letter from his butler and quietly examined the envelope. There was only his first name on it and the name and address of the sender. Thomas Elliot. Bruce's heart clutched and he saw Alfred observing him from the corner of his eye. 

"I thought you declined the invitation to his party in my stead," Bruce slowly said.

"I did, Master Wayne. It seems he responded." For anyone but family, Alfred would have been perfectly schooled. Unfortunately, they both knew Alfred was upset Thomas had answered back. With a steady hand, Bruce opened the letter and started reading it. He reread it a second time. 

"What does it say, Master Bruce?" Alfred politely inquired. 

Bruce breathed out, "He insists I should visit because I am his only childhood friend in Gotham." 

"After your last interaction with him, Master Bruce, I suggest you avoid meeting him," Alfred cautioned. 

"I know. Still, Alfred, I have to make sure he doesn't tell the world about my personality. I can't afford to have all my hard work destroyed by unattended details."

Alfred moved his head a fraction, already sure in having lost his ward's cause and already sure Bruce would go despite his warning.

Bruce reread the letter, "Maybe, he changed." There was a tiny bit of hope in his voice, something out of place coming from him.

Alfred looked chagrined, "I doubt he would ever change, Master Bruce. You'll get hurt again, I wager."

Bruce read the letter again, "I can handle it, Alfred. I'm not seven anymore." 

"With all due respect, Master Bruce, if you choose not to follow my advice, I would at least suggest you bring someone to spot you," Alfred knew better than to harden his position against Bruce; it only polarized his ward's opinion. The boy was too damn stubborn to listen to sense. It was hard not to be proud and angry at the same time.

Bruce studied the lettering on the envelope, "I am fine on my own, Alfred."

"Master Bruce, you are trying to teach Master Damian how to accept help. Words are not sufficient. You should show the truth of the words or they are simply honourless words carelessly thrown to the wind." 

Bruce glared at the letter, "Alfred, I am an adult, not a child."

"I am well aware of that, Sir. It might be time for you to remember it."

His ward stood up and walked out. So much for teaching lessons to kids about communication, Alfred thought. Bruce had never been an easy child to teach; he always took the wrong lessons out of everything. 

***  
One day later...

 

HJ: Hi Clark.

CK: Hi Hal. Something wrong?

HJ: Not exactly. I've had something on my mind about the arrangement.

CK: And?

HJ: Not to be indiscreet, but is BW your boyfriend?

CK: No. I thought we had gone over this before. 

HJ: Well, to be honest, this is just weird. 

CK: What do you mean?

HJ: I don't know how this has happened, but each time you have invited me to the 'arrangement', I was unavailable.

CK: Wasn't it you ditching us because you were uncomfortable? I thought it best to let you have space.

HJ: No. I was really unavailable, either here or... you know, there.

CK: Okay. That is strange.

HJ: So, you didn't do that on purpose?

CK: Well, no. BW gave me his availabilities and it is pretty limited.

HJ: Isn't he his own boss?

CK: Kinda? It's complicated.

HJ: And all the times I have suggested, you were the only one who had availabilities.

CK: Yeah?

HJ: If the arrangement is not cool for both of you, I would rather get out before it affects your relationship. I never intended to do more than to enjoy life. I don't need a new drama in my life and I certainly don't intend to get between the two of you. 

CK: I'm not sure I follow.

HJ: Look, I understood the arrangement was casual between all parties. It just doesn't look like that from where I am standing. 

CK: What does it look like?

HJ: It looks like a hell of a mess, but it sure isn't a casual one.

CK: Are you sure?

HJ: F**k. I hate doing things like this by text. Why don't we meet and discuss this? 

CK: Yeah. Good idea. Lunch?

HJ: You come here, of course.

CK: Fine. Where should we meet?

HJ: Mcdo on the 145 James Bent street. 

CK: OK

By the time Clark arrived, Hal had already ordered food and sat on a very secluded spot in the Mcdo. The reporter ordered his meal and sat in front of the tired looking Hal, "Everything alright."

Hal sighed, "New models came in recently. I'm doing overtime in testing the planes. Plus..." he lowered his voice at that point, hinting this part was more private," I've been arguing with my superior to get the help we wanted." He meant the vaccines, Clark realized, to inoculated the Earth population.

"Will it be a problem?" the reporter questioned.

"Not exactly, although they aren't too thrilled with us. Normally, people ask for help a bit more nicely than I do."

Clark wasn't even surprised. "Maybe we would petition for a new 'worker'. Ours seems a bit defective," the reporter casually commented before slurping his drink. The other man grinned, "Good luck with that. I'm sure they would find the most narcissistic asshole available to replace me." 

Clark shrugged, "It wouldn't change much anyway."

Hal lifted an eyebrow at him, "Wow. I didn't realize how much of a jerk you are in real life. Thought you were supposed to be the good guy. Now I know how you and Ollie can be best friends."

"Hmm... Not that getting to know each other is bad, but shouldn't we talk about the elephant in the room?" 

"How these fries have to be aliens byproducts to be this sinfully awesome?" Hal jested.

Clark glanced at him seriously, "We can do this elsewhere if you want."

Hal noted every seat in the Mcdo was taken and that even though the noise was somewhat deafening, people might overhear them. 

"Let's go," Hal gestured to the door, taking his leftover with him, "I know a good place we can go to be quiet." They entered Hal's car and he drove them to a small grove of trees. 

Clark looked with his supervision and saw nobody were in that area, "Is this one of your old haunts?"

"If you must know, it is one of the makeout spots in this town. I don't know how often Carol and I made up here." Before Clark could make a comment on the delicate subject of bringing a casual sex buddy to a romantic spot with heavy relationship history, Hal explained, "Don't worry. We're not here for sex or anything. It's just quiet and private."

"Is this someone's property?" Clark asked dubiously.

Hal grinned at him, "We both know how to sprint. We'll be okay." 

They sat on a suspicious bench in the middle of the peaceful wood, "Like I was saying, Clark, as much as I enjoy sex with you, this situation is kind of awkward."

Clark nodded, "We can stop if it makes you that uncomfortable." 

Hal sighed, not sure if he should be reassured or worried about the lack of reaction from Clark, "That's nice and all, but, like I said, I enjoy the sex, so if there is no reason to stop, I would rather not."

"It's not the casual sex thing that is the issue?" Clark questioned.

"Well, not exactly," Hal answered, "This is not the first time I have casual sex arrangements and I'm pretty sure it's not yours either, 'Superman', seeing how... professional your techniques are. Besides, with assets like yours, you can't have difficulty finding one-night-stand companionship."

Clark nodded and Hal pursued, "The problem is it is unclear what the arrangement is. I mean, maybe for Bruce and you it is clear, but for me, it isn't. I don't mind the fun sex with my alien colleague bit. It's just, it sounded as if this was some sort of threesome with all three of us in the room at the same time and now it seems like you are having a go with each of us separately. I'm confused about what is going on." 

Clark actually looked uncertain, "I thought it was what both of you wanted."

Hal smiled wryly, "If you both prefer to do it like this, I have no issue with it. It's just, well, I don't even know what either of you is looking for. I am receiving some pretty mixed messages here. I think it is only fair I know. What are you both trying to do here?"

Clark studied his hands for some time, "I don't know." Before Hal could make a sarcastic remark, he gestured in Gotham's direction, "I can't read him."

Hal leaned back on the bench, an impatient look glued to his face "And?"

Clark hesitated a moment, "My supersenses make it easy to read a person's physical reaction. I know when people are angry or sad simply by monitoring their internal reactions."

"Yeah, yeah, that's nice and all, but where are you going with all this?" 

"I can't read him accurately," Clark stared at his fidgeting hands, "And it's not as if he is actually forthcoming about anything."

Hal stopped his impatient hand movement and glared at his colleague, "You mean to tell me, one of the richest men on Earth, knows both our secret identities and sleeps with you on a regular basis, but you have no idea what he wants out of this?"

Clark exhaled and passed a hand on his forehead, "He won't reveal our secret identities. I'm not really worried about it, especially since we know enough of his secrets to endanger him too."

Hal turned his body to face the reporter, a frown on his handsome face, "Are you talking about him pretending to be an idiot?" 

"It's not really my secret to tell. What I can tell you is that revealing he is not an idiot might get him killed."

Hal pondered on it and finally got some ideas where this was going,"Is he, like, a spy or something?"

Clark nodded. 

"Is that why he is 'dating' Lex Luthor?" Hal quoted with his fingers, it made sense when you thought about it. The superhuman reporter paled, then, his eyes glowered with something so primal Hal got scared of his usually mild (except in sexual situations) and collected colleague.

"I have no idea," Superman coldly replied, seemingly more alien than Hal had ever seen before.

The f**k just happened here? Hal asked himself, vainly trying to hide his surprise. Note to self, never, ever question Superman about Lex Luthor and Bruce Wayne's relationship.

"Why are you scared?" Superman continued in the same carefully dispassionate voice. How did he know Hal was scared? Supersenses, of course. And Hal had thought to deal with the voice of reason that was Superman would be easier than the mysterious and casually lying Bruce Wayne. Okay, this was such a can of worms Hal hadn't needed to open.

Scared or not, Hal was still the bravest man on Earth. He stood up, "Your mood swings are terrifying."

Hal jabbed at Superman's steel chest, "At the League, you are the negotiator, the reasonable and mild Alpha solving everyone's problems. While we do the dirty, you act like a teenager who can't stop rutting. While discussing today, you go from being a passable jerk to being uncertain and wary and now you are so remote I f***ing expect you to fry my brain at any moment to write a thesis on the stink it emits."

Hal had been on the receiving end of Batglares for as long as he had known Batman. This was the first time on the receiving end of a deadly Superman's glare and Hal was glad he had built immunity to glares or he would have been intimidated. You knew, when facing Batman, that he was a stubborn human who would rather die than admit fault. When facing a displeased Superman, you knew you were facing the equivalent of a pissed off God who could kill you off with a flicker of his fingers. Hal knew he should stick to pissing off Batman.

"Green Lantern," Superman, still disguised as Clark Kent, pronounced distinctly, in a way that almost made Hal flinch away, "I understand your concern with the present arrangement. I would rather have you both in the same room at the same time than not. I will ask Bruce about his preference."

The displeased God stood up, sending Hal stumbling backwards, "Next time you have concerns, I suggest you voice them without thoroughly insulting me. My patience is not unlimited." 

Hal blinked in surprise and there was no longer anyone else with him. Was this an illusion or did Superman just go motherf***ing alien scientist on him? The pilot pinched himself. Yup, it was true. Superman's meal had been forgotten on the bench.

When he had learned, in that first meeting with Superman and Bruce a month ago, Superman's secret identity, Hal had been baffled by the mildness and awkwardness of the man. Thankfully, that part hadn't translated into the bed. The straightfulness of his lust had been another surprise. Now, Hal was discovering a whole other facet to his colleague. Just how many things were Superman hiding? He shook his head, he really had his work cut out if he had to deal with Bruce Wayne and Superman. He really hoped this mess was worth the supposed advantages.

***  
The next evening...

 

"Selina," a male voice prompted her out of her thoughts.

Her lips curled upwards as she recognized the voice.

She took another swig of her alcohol bottle before replying, "Yes, Jay?"

"Does your friend know where he is?" Red Hood demanded, his stance imposing yet non-threatening beside her.

Selina bent over the rooftop balustrade to watch the movements on the street, the pulse of this part of town.

"She does not."

"Are you sure? It wouldn't be the first time Harley lied to you," the young adult insisted.

"I am sure."

The prostitutes were making themselves scarce below despite their livelihood. The drug dealers' watchfulness was at least double the usual. 

Selina had heard the remains of an old-new gang had recently returned in town and had been the ones responsible for killing Joker's henchmen. Or it was a grudge killing. Many had vowed revenge against Joker, Batman and the rest of the town's celebrities. It was rumoured, strictly unreliable. Selina knew how to treat that kind of information. It was precious resources that needed to be carefully handed.

"It is ugly," Catwoman drawled, still looking on her kingdom, the one she grew up in.

"Yeah, but it is our kind of ugly," Red Hood agreed, also looking over the Narrows, the place he was also born into.

Catwoman glanced at the fearsome Robin-turned-crazy-murderer-turned-less-murderous,"It is home."

Jason removed his helmet to take in this dangerous part of town, his domino mask still covering his face's features. 

This part of town smelled like wet cats and dusty and bloody promises. He missed that foul smell of retaliation every day he spent outside of Gotham. He might have lived in Bruce's Manor in the outskirts of town for three years, however, this was the Gotham he understood, not the shinier and more hypocrite one the richer folks knew about.

Selina offered him a swig of her bottle and he refused with a shake of his head. He almost always declined in memory of the ravages of drug and alcohol addiction had done in his mother's life. Selina thought it was sweet.

"So, how is my favourite Robin doing?" Selina asked, still looking for clues about the changes operating in her section of the town.

Jason rolled his eyes, "You call everyone your favourite."

Selina smiled at him, "You all are."

"Wait until you see the new one," Jason dryly commented.

"I've heard quite a lot about him," Selina purred back, "Can't wait to sink my claws into that one too."

In silence, they both looked at the streets, filled with garbage and small-time crook. Neither bothered helping the lady who got her handbag stolen by a ten-year-old child. 

"You'd think tourists would know better than to wander into the Narrows at night by this time," Selina sighed.

Jason shrugged it off, "I'm glad they still are stupid. It's much less dangerous for the kids to steal from them than from the residents." 

She stretched her back languidly, "I've heard some of those 'tourists' are actually amateur reporters trying to capture pictures of the reclusive Batfamily and Catwoman."

Jason scoffed, "Can't they just take pictures of Superpants and such?"

Selina pursed her lips and looked up, "Everyone can take photos of Superman. It takes a genius to take pictures of us."

Jason chuckled, "I seem to remember you selling pictures of yourself for Life magazine?"

Selina took another swig, "A girl gotta make money to live."

They shared a look of understanding. To survive the Narrows, you had to make horrible choices. The fact they were still alive and 'ruling' this delible area meant they had done they part. The scars never left. 

"It was nice catching up, Jay, however, I have some thievery to accomplish tonight, so I have to say bye."

Jason nodded and she was gone. He sat on the ledge overlooking the road and relaxed into the scenery. Gotham may be Batman's, the Narrows was Selina's and his. He was going to fight tooth and nail for it. He wasn't going to let Joker take over his town.

***  
That same night...

 

Red Hood has connected.

RH: O, do you have his whereabouts?

O: I'm looking into it. 

Red Hood has disconnected.

Nightwing has connected.

N: O, did you see that?

O: I'm looking into it, right now.

N: That can't be good news. I mean, is this really Joker's comeback?

O: I'm looking into it. 

N: Come on, O, you, the brilliant technician, of course, you know something. Should I head to Gotham to be available on that date?

O: I'll tell you closer to tomorrow's event's time. I still don't know much.

N: O, it has to be a trap.

O: I'm still figuring it out.

N: I can't let him kill any of you. I'm coming back to help you.

O: N, I'll keep you updated. Let me work.

N: I can't stand the idea of anyone getting killed or maimed by that monster in our family. I mean, Jason is barely on speaking terms with B even years after. It still affects us.

O: You mean me. 

N: No! I...

O: Cut your bullsh*t. I don't need your concern. Especially not now. I need to work.

N: I'm...

O: No apologies. I won't hear it.

N: O, A told me.

O: And?

N: Are you sure you are up to it? I mean, it's not that I think you can't defend yourself...

O: Isn't it.

N: You accepted A's idea before Joker made his newspaper's announcement he was crashing the party.

O: And?

N: It changes everything.

O: It is even more reasons for me to go to Thomas Elliot's homecoming party. 

N: You are not Batgirl anymore.

O: I am Oracle. Don't try to talk me out of this.

N: O...

O: I need to work. 

Nightwing is forcefully disconnected.

Robin has connected.

R: O, A has updated me on your status on tomorrow night. Do you want me to work the computer for that event?

O: Yes. We just need to coordinate RR, RH, BB and S to make sure nobody profits from the distraction.

R: What is going to be the protocol colour?

O: Upper Blue. 

R: Reasonable doubt it is really Joker. I see. 

O: It might change in the coming day.

R: Does B know you are his date tomorrow evening?

O: According to A, no. He thinks A will get another clueless model. 

R: Do you know why A is that afraid of Thomas Elliot? He is sending you, the big gun, in after all.

O: He told me they were childhood friends. Before B's parents died. 

R: And?

O: It seems Thomas knows too much about B's real personality. A told me to watch out for the man. He called him a bad apple. 

R: So we have to worry about him, in addition to Joker crashing the party?

O: Yes.

R: I'll let you work. 

Robin has disconnected.

A few minutes later, Spoiler has connected.

S: What's the plan?

O: B and I are going in as civilians. The rest of you keep looking over Gotham.

S: You are going in!?! Wow. I've always wanted to see you in action.

O: I'll be attending a party. Not fighting villains.

S: But it isn't a real party until villains try to take it over!

O: You spend too much time as Spoiler.

S: But, why are you attending, and not RR and R? Their presences would be more usual, no?

O: It's a complicated B's emotional matter. A is actually the mastermind behind that order of things, not B. A wanted me to keep an eye on both B and Thomas Elliot. 

S: And now Joker says he will invade the party.

O: Yes. 

S: Well, enjoy your evening being showed off as Bruce's date of the evening while we bleed and fight villains with our bare hands!

O: I already miss my loyal computer. 

S: Well, I'll meet up with R and RR tomorrow night for backup. Talk to you then! Oh, and B was grumpy when LL was over at the Manor. He was kind of defending him and things, so, go easy on the LL bashing tomorrow.

Spoiler has disconnected. 

Red Robin has connected.

RR: I have been told you are going with Father tomorrow.

O: Yes.

RR: Why were you chosen? I am much more suitable to fight off this Joker guy.

O: No. 

RR: Are you insulting my abilities?

O: Are you insulting mine?

RR: I have been trained to be an assassin and a ruler since I have been born.

O: Exactly my point. 

RR: Are you insinuating you have had better training than me?

O: Yes. 

RR: Who trained you?

O: I'm mostly self-taught. I did have some mentors here and there, including your father. 

RR: How many years did you train?

O: A few. 

RR: My training was superior.

O: Only if you want to be an assassin and a ruler, which, I hope are no longer your goals.

RR: Why not?

O: I know you swore not to kill anyone. Assassin is out. You want to inherit the Batman name and the Wayne business? A ruler is also out since B will not be giving it to a ruler. 

RR: I had a versatile training. I trained in languages and customs.

O: Yet you cannot attend a meeting or an event without making trouble.

RR: I defend my Father's and my honour. That is the duty of a son.

O: There are many ways to defend someone. The way you are doing it causes more trouble for your father. 

RR: It does not!

O: Case in point, when you attacked Bane a few nights ago, against your father's explicit orders, you forced your father and Robin to fight more recklessly to save you. Your father was injured as a result of your behaviour. 

RR: I helped him out! Without me, he would have been killed!

O: B very rarely needs someone to win his fights for him. Why do you think Gotham has been relatively superhuman free? Your father is one of the best fighters on Earth, superhumans included. He wins because he is careful. He appreciates outside support, not someone who wants to single-handedly settle everything. If you can't even understand this, you will make blunders upon blunders and drag your father and the rest of the Batfamily into danger. 

RR: That's a lie!

O: This is my perspective as a relative outsider in the Batfamily. If you are not careful, you will destroy the very things you are trying to save. You are free to do what you will with my advice. 

RR: I have nothing to learn from your stupid warnings.

Red Robin has disconnected. 

A few moments later, Black Bat has connected. 

BB: Plan?

O: Stand on standby. R would keep you all coordinated. Keep an eye on RR and RH. They might do something stupid. N is not supposed to come, but if he does, please keep an eye on him.

BB: Ok. 

O: I rely on you and R from letting things get too out of control. 

BB: I try.

O: Thanks BB. 

***  
(This is a copy to the article published in the Gotham Gazette)

SOMEONE CLAIMING TO BE JOKER HAS THREATENED A GAZETTE REPORTER INTO PUBLISH THIS ARTICLE

Yesterday, at 8:00 p.m., someone asked to speak to me on the phone, saying there was an anonymous call for me. There was a scratchy voice on the phone as I took it. "Hello?" I asked. "Hellooo, my dear" an obviously modified voice answered, "I want a message to appear in the newspapers. You see, Batman is not paying me enough attention and I'm getting bored." 

I asked, "Who is this speaking?"

"Joker," the voice answered with a chuckle, "I hope this name still means something even if I haven't done anything in a while."

I swallowed, "What is the message?"

"I heard this famous rich doctor came back in town and that there is an event to his name? Well, as a resident of this town, I also want to greet him. I'll be there. Oh, and if you don't publish this up, I'll kill your wife and children." The line then cut.

Police have tried unsuccessfully to trace the call. 

Special Lifestyle reporter  
Gyorne Lorne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Hal. He truly tries to act as a responsible adult for once in his life and his success is somewhat mitigated (he asks Superman for guidelines or rules to the game they are playing).
> 
> He has zero understanding of what is going on between Bruce Wayne and Superman/Clark Kent. 
> 
> As for Barbara, she is awesome. She organizes everyone and puts both Damian and Dick in their places. Of course, Alfred has asked her to keep an eye on his ward. I almost pity her.


	10. Gotham's Princeling Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara and Bruce discuss in an almost civil manner. Damian and Steph get to know one another. 
> 
> And Gotham is an hellfire waiting to burn them all to ashes.
> 
> *Warning: some blatant ableism.

"Master Bruce," Alfred announced, "Your date has arrived."

The man sat in Batman's chair, typing some data, "...And if anything, contact me. I'll keep the alarm on my watch on. Any questions?"

"We've done this before," Oracle's patient mechanical voice answered.

"We have it covered. You should get yourself ready," Robin's voice agreed.

"Okay," Black Bat replied from her comm near the event.

"Old man, you are really getting senile with your explanations," Red Hood's gruff voice answered.

"I will not fail you," Red Robin's voice answered. 

"This is getting boring," Spoiler yawned over her comm.

Bruce simply concluded his end of the conversation, "Batman out." He stood up, took out his comms and tugged his sleeves in place. 

"Master Bruce, if I may suggest you should comb over the area where you had your comms on."

His ward obeyed quite docilely this time. If only he was this obedient when it came to more perilous matters...

They headed up without further ado. The lady in question was waiting for them at the bottom of the Manor's stairs. 

"Alfred," Bruce said as he started down the stairs,"I thought it was supposed to be an actress tonight."

"With all due respect, Master Bruce, I thought good company would cheer you up tonight," the aplomb butler smoothly answered. 

Barbara simply looked on as they descended the steps. The red dress highlighted the strong reddish hue in her loose hair while gently reminding anyone she was a woman with some attractive features. 

"You made me wait," she reproached Bruce, sitting in her chair as a queen would on her throne.

Bruce opened his mouth to answer but caught Alfred's trademark "gentlemen-have-a-duty-to-make-their-dates-enjoy-their-evening-no-matter-what" gaze.

Bruce flashed his teeth in a rare display of transposing a Brucie smile on an otherwise Bruce Wayne's more serious face. It was an unsettling display even for Alfred.

"Then, shall we go?" the billionaire offered. 

She nodded, not even trying to put on an act. She wheeled herself to the Wayne's car that was specially adapted for her. Without any help, she positioned herself in the back and left her chair to Bruce's handling. He did so silently, already used to the minutiae of folding the wheelchair and putting it in the trunk. 

Of course, technically speaking, it was Alfred's job to do so. However, Bruce knew that despite his former guardian's youthful vitality, he was getting older and weaker, a subject that Bruce had not yet broached with his father figure. Besides, as long as they were not in public, the employee-employer relationship veil between them was considerably lowered. 

Bruce sat beside Barbara, letting Alfred drive them there. He knew better than to expect a calm ride. Barbara hated wasting time.

"Tim's in charge," she offered as the car drove off. 

"Mmm."

She turned to observe him with her too-observant-eyes,"You knew I was to be your date tonight."

"I did," he answered looking outside his window.

She looked on, waiting for his explanation.

"I know Alfred," he simply stated.

"Do you know why he wanted me here tonight?" 

For a moment, Bruce was silent. 

"Yes."

She lifted an eyebrow, "That's all?"

He simply answered, "Alfred manages a big part of my life." 

For the longest time, Barbara studied the comment from different angles. Was it recrimination against his guardian or a confession Bruce had abdicated making his own choices for whole areas of his life? Either way, there was reluctant acceptance of his own lifestyle. 

Even though she thought their dynamic interesting, she wasn't there to judge how their relationship was detrimental to Bruce's reaching complete independence. Besides, she knew he had handicaps that could make it unlikely to live without some supervision. He had never been the best judge of his personal care. 

She mulled over her subject and decided to start easy, "I know what you are trying to achieve, Bruce."

The window reflecting his face stood unchanged at the statement. 

"You are trying to unify the world's defences against possible invasions."

She paused and continued, "The problem is Gotham, isn't it?"

The man could have been made of steel for all the movements he made. 

Barbara was used to his silences, "Batman was supposed to remain an invisible myth, a legend. That's what you have made him be. But that can't work any longer and you know it."

Bruce lightly touched the window, his fingers skimming the surface as if he was afraid to break it.

Barbara crossed her arms as the sparsely populated area outside was slowly transforming into the heart of Gotham, "We are losing our invisibility and you know it. Soon, there will be good pictures of all of us taken and published in newspapers. Nightwing is less camera-shy than any of us except Red Hood. This can't go on forever."

"Mmm," Bruce answered, seemingly deeply absorbed in the view appearing in the window. 

"It's time for Batman to start trying to be loved," Barbara reasoned. 

"No." Bruce snapped.

Barbara knew this would be his reaction, "I know you decided to be feared all those years ago in order to gain ascendancy in Gotham. It's been used before. 'As long as you avoid being hated, it is better to be feared than to be loved'. I am aware of Machiavelli's principles concerning sovereignty. However, I distinctly remember it is better to be feared and loved than only feared. You, Batman, will start to appear more and more on the international sphere. Isn't it time for you to cultivate love as well as fear?"

She hears the soft tapping of Bruce's finger on the window.

"Bruce, I'm not saying you should be polite and considerate to everyone like Superman or Flash." 

"But, isn't it time for you to, at least, try to get along with your League allies? From all of our predictions about the future of Earth, unity is central to our tactics. League unity even more so, considering you will need their support to bring forward a controversial plan to shift the odds in our favours."

The noise from the tapping subsided and Bruce softly asked, "Is that all you mean to tell me?"

She wanted to roll her eyes: actually, she had a whole page of subjects to bring to Bruce's attention. Fortunately enough for him, she knew how to choose the most important ones. 

"It will do for now," she replied.

He casually observed her in the window, "Where do you see yourself in five years?"

"Mmh?" she answered, baffled by the abrupt change of subject. 

He turned to look at her, "Are you going to do this your whole life?"

She felt the flames of anger flaring in her stomach, "What exactly do you mean by that?"

A wiser man would have recognized the warning signs of an incoming explosion. Bruce simply narrowed his eyes and continued, "Barbara, you've been doing this for eight years. Despite that, you are still young. Don't you want to do something else with your life?"

The redhead tilted her head in curiosity, her lips smiling yet her demeanours was more menacing than patient, "Bruce, are you trying to get me to stop being Oracle?"

He shook his head, seemingly so lost in his thoughts he didn't notice her anger, "Only if you want to."

"Then, what is this about?" She managed to accuse with a harmless question. 

Bruce blinked, "We have been lucky, both of us, to have survived this long in this capacity for years."

"Lucky," She repeated, incredulous.

He shrugged, "Talented, sure. Lucky nonetheless." 

"I got paralyzed from the waist down and you got your back broken by Bane. How is that lucky?"

"We survived," he looked outside, his tone gone sour. They had at that. Not like sixteen-years-old Jason. 

She frowned at the gothic buildings coming more and more in view with tears of rain washing the town in the hope the sins would vanish too. Barbara knew that no matter how much anyone scrubbed, there was blood dripping from the city's very foundation. Plowing through the historic archives had been a favourite hobby of hers. Strange disappearances, bloodcurdling mythologies and evil plagued this city since its unfortunate birth. 

The man with no shadow had always been her favourite myth. 

"There was once a man with no shadow..." the story always began. She especially loved that the stranger's terrible curse against the city didn't work because Gotham was already forsaken by God.

An English village with the name of 'Gotham' was also associated in folklore with insanity. Even the city's etymology pointed to it; 'Gotham' means "homestead where goats are kept." Goats are the animals most closely associated with Satan. By that logic, the owner of the Gotham would be the Devil himself.

Bruce was right; surviving in the Devil's proclaimed home for years was quite an achievement. If the Devil had one prophet on Earth, it would certainly be the Joker, also living in Gotham. She shivered.

"Are you cold?" the man beside her asked. 

"Not more than usual." Gotham was always chilling, in a permeating way the loathsome weather alone couldn't explain.

They looked at the city as the vehicle slowly headed at their destination. In more than one way, the trip from the Manor to the city's downtown at night felt like a slow descent in hell. There were many reasons Barbara favoured her clock tower location over the Batcave, one of which was that you didn't have to choose to sink into Gotham everytime you wanted to help; you were already part of it.

"What were you trying to say earlier?" she finally broke the suffocating silence.

He sighed, "You're young, Barbara. It might be time for you to explore your life options. You might want to move away, settle down and have children. Even if you don't, isn't it time you at least considered your options?" The 'before it is too late' was left unsaid. 

She wanted to rebuttal his involvement in her personal affairs, yet she did start to nitpick on him first... Instead, she sensed a genuine worry and sorrow from his questions. 

"What about you, Bruce? Aren't you still young?"

His lips curled in rictus more than a smile. He looked older than Alfred as he answered, "I already choose, Barbara."

She knew she should quit now. She gestured to the outside barely illuminated streets, "This can't be all you want in life."

He stared outside unresponsive like a creepy toy staring at the pedestrian from the safety of toy store's window glass. She thought he would drop the matter and let them wallow into another uncomfortable silence that was now his specialty when he continued, "Is this all you want from life, Barbara, would be the more relevant question." 

The redhead gritted her teeth, "Is this about Dick?" 

"Yes and no."

"Have you talked to him about this?" she pushed; you needed to have the patience of a saint to grind a clear (non-mission related) answer from the rock that was Bruce. 

He shook his head, eyes still recording the darkening city with interest.

"Why did you raise this with me, your son's friend, if you won't do it with him?"

"He won't listen."

Fair enough. 

"Moreover, as talented as he is, he is shortsighted compared to either you or Tim," the businessman clinically enunciated. 

"So, you come to see me to organize your son's life? You can't do that, Bruce. You can't just micromanage your son's life," her sharp teacher's disapproval tone tinted her words. 

"I'm... not trying to do that. You have been in an irregular relationship for years. I know both of you, Barbara. I don't want either to get harmed," this time, his awkwardness at discussing his son's love life with said son's girlfriend was so transparent Barbara almost felt pity for him. 

"And how are we getting hurt?"

He shifted, carefully avoiding her gaze reflected in the window, "Gotham."

It took the young woman a long time to figure out where exactly Bruce was going with this conversation. Gotham and heroes didn't necessarily go well together. What Bruce had told her earlier was true: they were lucky to have survived. 

...And they both knew Dick was never going to come live in Gotham as long as Bruce (or Batman) was alive in Gotham even if Barbara wanted to continue living in the city of the disillusioned and the weary.

"Your shadow looms heavy on Gotham," she tried to soothe Bruce's guilt. She knew it was as helpful as using lips balm to cure cancer. 

He denied even her feeble attempts at smoothing things along, "We are talking about your options."

What a headache, she thought. It is true I am involved in a relationship that is not going anywhere. We should at least discuss it out. Why is Bruce even the one to point this out? He hates speaking about the tiniest spark of feelings and now he advises me to reevaluate my relationship with his son? This needs to be added to my list of things 'changed' about Bruce's attitude.

She felt more than saw the car pull at Elliot's grand mansion. Time to push for an answer concerning my last query. 

"I'll consider them. As for you, Bruce, I hope you at least consider using your newly developed praising skills to make friends with your allies."

That statement erased all of his awkwardness. He answered with a glower, "You do know your father will kill me if the newspapers publish even one photo that makes it looks like I am flirting with you?"

She arched an eyebrow at him. He had taken her comment about praising his allies as if she had meant herself. That was even better. "The solution is simple. Make sure to look like you are flirting with someone else in every picture taken for the rest of the night."

If his blank expression was anything to go by, he was not impressed with her 'solution.'

Alfred parked the car and headed outside to retrieve Barbara's wheelchair. Bruce changed his demeanour and walked out of his car seat to accompany Miss Gordon. 

"Mr. Wayne, aren't you scared that Joker will attend the party?"

"Mr. Wayne, do you confirm or deny Damian is your biological son?"

Bruce waved and smiled at them and started spouting nonsense, "Well, to be honest, I doubt my friend Thomas Elliot would have invited Joker tonight. He has better taste than that..."

Barbara used the distraction to placed herself discreetly in her wheelchair. As soon as she was done, Bruce turned to her, "Shall we go?"

"Mr. Wayne, who is your date tonight? She doesn't look like your usual type of date." Barbara tried not to be insulted by the barely disguised barb the reporter had sent her way.

"Vicky, I thought you would recognize her. This beauty is my son Richard's good friend, Barbara Gordon," Bruce gestured grandiosely.

"The Commissioner's daughter?" Vicky Vale questioned, astonished. 

"Herself," Barbara responded with a raised eyebrow daring the reporter to insult her again. 

Vicky Vale thankfully closed her trap. The flurry of questions didn't stop there. 

Some of the out-of-town reporters didn't know her story at all and it showed with the questions they asked. 

"Are you paraplegic?"

"Did you get injured?"

"Are you sick?"

"Why did Bruce Wayne choose you as his date?"

Barbara could also hear the whispers, "Even without considering the fact she's stuck in a wheelchair, she's not that pretty..." "Why would she be his date?" "What's so special about her? Is Bruce Wayne trying to gain the Commissioner's favour with this?" 

But the reporters who knew her story were the worst.

"The Joker is responsible for your injury forcing you to stay in the wheelchair and he said he would be here tonight. Aren't you scared to be targeted again?"

"The police statement didn't confirm or refute whether you were sexually assaulted or not by Joker when he incapacitated you. Were you?" 

That comment took the cake. Barbara simply wheeled herself to the house without caring for the reporters nor for Bruce's response. Her date hurried up to catch up to her. Unfortunately, like most architectures that weren't publicly funded, there was stairs to go inside and no wheelchair friendly elevators. She had known this would happen, but there was no going around the problem except by forcing the owner to buy a ramp or an elevator for her.

"Would you care for some assistance, Miss Gordon?" Bruce elegantly asked from beside her. That was one thing she had always hated about being stuck in a wheelchair; even in Gotham, people randomly offered her help when she didn't need it. It soured her experience of having help when she truly needed it. At least, she had the satisfaction of knowing Bruce hated to ask for help even more than she did and he had often been forced to do so anyway.

"If you would be so kind," she answered in a monotone voice. 

Bruce wisely decided to steer her to a lesser frequented entrance to avoid most of the gawking crowd waiting outside. There was still some persistent persons who followed them around.

"May I carry you?" It was an offer devoid of any Bruce's public flirtatious subtone or Batman's commanding tone. 

She reluctantly nodded. Bruce called a waiter to take care of the wheelchair and he gently lifted her by putting one arm below her knees and one secured in her back. They both heard the sound of cameras snapping pictures away. Bruce whispered into her ear as he walked up the stairs, "Your father is going to kill me." 

She smiled at the thought of her dad shooting a firearm point blank at an apologetic-looking Batman. Barbara reassured him, "Don't worry, I'll protect you."

"And the reporter?" he whispered back, his serious face hidden from anyone else by his posture and hair.

She grinned at him as he placed her back in her wheelchair, already imagining her sweet revenge,"I'll, of course, take care of it myself." 

He nodded as his face transform back to his charming playboy. It was time to enter the high-society battlefield.

The last time Barbara had participated in a high-class event, she had felt lost in the subtle and unsubtle bragging wars the guests engaged in. Nobody, except for the Waynes and her father (the reason for which she had attended since the event was supposed to help him get elected), had noticed her in the event and it had suited her just fine. 

This time, it was the contrary; everyone looked at her in dismay. Everywhere Bruce was going, he was the center of attention and so was she by association. She was also the only person in a wheelchair at the event. This felt strange to her because she was sure some of the wealthiest in Gotham, especially the older generations, had limited mobility. 

"Bruce Wayne! What a pleasure to meet you! Have you met my husband? George meet Bruce," a wired gesticulating brown-haired man said. They were a mismatched pair; the younger man (the brown-haired one) was a cheery looking Beta while the older and quieter Alpha man was black-haired. They proceeded to exchange their handshakes and Bruce introduced her, "This is my lovely date, Barbara Gordon, who I've been lucky enough to have as company tonight."

The two men glanced at her before returning their attention to Bruce. After a few minutes of conversation, Bruce excused himself and Barbara from their company and headed in the direction he had seen Thomas Elliot talking with Lois Lane.

***

Somewhere close by...

 

"Aren't you forgetting something Damian?"

He whipped around to see Steph dressed in dark forest evening gown accompanied with ballerina slippers and a gold strapped green purse. The boy was surprised to see she had also done her hair in an elegant twist, looking nothing like the unrefined teenager look she had previously sported at the Manor. 

"Brown, what are you doing here?", he snapped.

She snorted, "Same as you. Going to the party."

He scowled at her and it was hard for her to resist gushing at the man-boy figure he cut in his green forest dress shirt with the golden tie and his fitted blazer. Dick had been so right: the boy was simply so adorable! Speaking of...

Damian didn't even flinch at the camera flash, "What. Are. You. Doing."

Steph lifted a finger, "Wait a sec. I'm sending this to the rest of the group."

Instantly, her phone was swiped out of her hands, "NO."

"Hey! Give it back! That's a new phone!"

"Tch. That's the best you can afford?"

"Don't be a child and give it back."

"I am no child. You took a picture of me without permission. Retribution is needed."

If anyone had been listening to the interaction, the noises following Damian's statement would have either made them call the cops or hid in their room as it sounded as if a cock and peacock were having a death match involving knives, guns and random objects.

A few moments later, they had finally reached a truce as they heard the notifications sound from the cell phone, made when other members of the Batfamily commented on the posted photo. Damian and Steph wanted to know what was being said. 

"Woah, I didn't realize Dick had that many photos in his collection. I'm glad he's not stalking me."

"Cute!?! I'm manly; no childish endearment terms would suit me."

"Tim... What a spoilsport," Steph loudly sighed. 

Damian pushed her aside, "Stop blocking the screen," then as he saw the time on it, "It's already this late?"

Steph shrugged, "We should head soon." 

"I will go. You will follow Father's orders."

"Ooooh. That's funny because Bruce was the one who recommended I accompany you tonight to the homecoming celebration."

Damian frowned, some hint of hesitation in his body language, "He wasn't upset?"

Steph rolled her eyes to the ceiling, "How should I know? Told me it was all of his children's right to attend the events the Wayne family has been invited to. Didn't seem that upset you would prefer to attend a dumb socialite gathering rather than spy on said dumb socialite gathering. We just have to be the inside eyes in case something goes wrong."

Damian breathed out. Steph decided that fighting the kid for a cellphone should count as normal bonding time and after bonding, it was the mandatory time to pick nicknames, "So, should I call you Dami or Dam or D.A. or Dat or D or DAG or Dude or..."

"Enough with those horrible ideas! Call me Damian!" 

"Only if you call me Steph," she teased back as petted his hair. He slapped her hand away, "Fat girl," he examined her head to toe, "You look too much like a trashy commoner to be suited to be my date but, in view of the last minute notice, I will have to do with you."

"Never call a girl fat!"

"Never pet my hair."

"That's sexist! Dick is allowed: he told me so!"

"I am not an animal. Do not pet me."

***

RH: Where are the others?

R: Well, O is in with B and A. S and RR are also preparing to attend. 

RH: Aren't they supposed to be on surveillance duty?

R: They are better eyes inside. 

RH: Who's manning the perimeter?

BB: Me.

RH: Seriously? I know I was set up to watch the rest of G in case this was a distraction but putting only BB to stop Joker from waltzing in? That's bad planning.

R: Well... According to S's messages, it seems it wasn't actually Joker saying he would come.

RH: Really.

R: Really. That's what B told her. 

RH: Why is BB there then?

Nightwing has connected.

R: Because Joker might show up. He hates it when other people use his name.

N: True. The first year I was R, a guy actually published a story saying Joker was really a lonely guy who needed a friend.

RH: That's gutsy and stupid. How did he end up dead?

N: He didn't. Joker actually 'befriended' the poor guy. Murdered his actual best friend. Joker would send him letters and all. Always managed to get his contact even after the guy changed identities. Then, he stopped receiving anything from Joker.

R: And?

N: Well, Joker's 'friend' got married and all. One day when he walked into his room, he found his wedding photo with a bloody drawing of Joker added between them. Freaked the guy even more. Got divorced and his mental health plummeted. I heard he calls Arkham Asylum every day to know if Joker has escaped or if they caught him again. The police pity the poor fool, but can't do much for him.

R: Why doesn't B use information about Joker's method of communication with the guy to trap him?

N: Joker barely communicates with him. He just does it on a whim. Besides, all the letters and envelopes are cheap. There is nothing distinctive about them except Joker's handwriting. The return address varies between "Arkham Asylum", "Gotham" and "Hell".

RH: Hell is a pretty good word to describe the first two. 

R: If it is truly hell, why are you staying here?

RH: It's my hell. Makes it special.

Spoiler has connected. 

Spoiler sends the chat a photo.

R: He looks dumb.

N: Ooooh, he's so cute! Give me more! B is bad with pictures and R refuses to give me any of his. I can only count on you and A to add to my siblings' collection!

RH: YOUR WHAT!?

N: Siblings' collection! I keep albums for each sibling. It's too bad I only have three albums with you in it. You really should give me more updated ones. You too, BB, you should stop avoiding my camera every time I want to take photos.

BB: Game.

N: Fine! I'll pay anyone who gives me a good picture of RR, R, BB or RH.

RH: You're disgusting. I'll find your collection of me and burn it to the ground.

S: How much?

N: A hug each time!

S: You're a cheapstake, Nightlamp.

N: It's Mr. Nightlamp to you.

S: Gotta go!

Spoiler has disconnected.

R: Aren't you employed?

N: Do you know how often I have to bail from work for my 'extracurriculars'?

R: B gave you money.

N: I don't use it. 

RH: Yeah, who the hell would want his money anyway? 

R: Didn't you receive some, too?

RH: He tried to give me some. 

R: I thought you died before it came to fruition. 

RH: Everyone knows I'm alive now.

R: I'm kind of wondering if B simply left the money in the trust fund to your name after your death and nobody had the guts to say it was a bad idea to leave it there when he could invest it elsewhere...

N: I'm still wondering why nobody really questions the fact you were dead and, pouf, some years later, you are alive. 

RH: It's Gotham. Weird things happen all the time. Beside even Jesus came back from the dead when aliens, technology and powers were less of a thing.

R: If aliens set up a store in Gotham, people would flock there to know if they had interesting weapons. They wouldn't care about the alien aspect. 

N: Wait. Are you making a parallel between you and Jesus or are you saying Jesus was an alien?

R: They have at least one thing in common: they both came back to life. 

RH: I don't know why everyone makes a big deal out of it. It doesn't live up to the hype.

R: The Jesus is an alien theory has also been around for a long time. In fact, the...

BB: SHOT!

N: Who?

RH: What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nightwing's story about 'Joker's friend' is actually canon Batfamily lore, although the details may have been changed a bit from the original story.


	11. Gotham's Princeling Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra Cain's aptly summarizes the events in this chapter as "SHOT!"

Lois Lane had had to flirt with a scumbag to get a ticket to this overpriced and overbooked homecoming party. She hated pretending to be a submissive Beta female fawning for a 'strong Alpha'. That just meant how serious she was with breaking Bruce Wayne's facade. She knew Thomas Elliot was key to the whole thing and she could taste the thrill of the hunt as she entered the mansion.

Lois looked around the house to see how much the rumours of the dilapidated Elliot fortune was true. After Thomas's parents had been in a car crash, they had faltered as a high-class society, falling into bankruptcy; at least, that was what had been said back then. After his untimely mother's death, Thomas Elliot had managed to finish his medical studies at Harvard University and, after years of practice, he was finally coming back to his family home in Gotham. 

Lois had heard rumours he had managed to invest his remaining family fortune and gain back some of the family former glory. She had also heard he had been involved with some unsavoury characters. No matter which rumours were the truth, the manor appeared glorious and well-maintained.

There he was, talking with some councillors already trying to get him involved in drug transactions or something. Lois stole a glass of some wine from a waiter's plate and sipped it while watching her prey. Thomas Elliot refused to help them and turned about as if searching someone in the crowd milling around. It was her time to intervene.

"Dr. Elliot, may I have a word with you?" she smiled at him professionally.

He glanced around and settled his eyes on her, "Ms. Lane, I'm flattered a reporter of your calibre is the one reporting my homecoming."

Well, at least, he wasn't as ignorant as his 'friend' Bruce Wayne. They exchanged handshakes and she dragged him into an area that was harder to see from the door, in case the famous Bruce Wayne would attend the party.

"May I ask a few questions?"

He wavered his hand away, "Ask away. I set today up to get people to get to know me."

In a flash, Lois had her recorder out, "Why did you move out of Gotham?"

The brunet Beta smiled at her, "The question you really want to ask me is why did I come back, isn't it?"

She tilted her head.

Thomas Elliot answered genuinely, "That's what people are always wondering about but are too polite to ask. You come from Metropolis, the city of Tomorrow. Of course, you would want why anyone would want to come back to Gotham."

He gestured to the hall filled with the cream of high society, "They are still here despite all those ridiculous costumed troublemakers. Do you know why?"

Lois wanted to bring him to the Bruce Wayne subject, yet she couldn't resist taking the bait, "No. Why are they?"

Thomas opened his mouth and was interrupted by Bruce Wayne's, "Tommy! Long time no see!"

Lois turned to see the two men exchanging a hug, her interview being so skillfully highjacked. She already wanted to bash Bruce's face in and the party was just starting.

"Lois Lane?" a confident voice asked her. She noticed the woman in the wheelchair heading her way. Barbara Gordon. The commissioner's daughter and a famous victim of Joker. She was known for being a smart and tough cookie. 

"That's me. And you must be Barbara Gordon?" Lois answered back while offering her hand.

The woman shook her hand with a firm grip, "I am."

Lois could see Bruce and Thomas talking together. She didn't want to let her information source escape.

"I have read your last article on the rampant corruption in the construction companies. I quite liked it," Barbara said, forcing her into a conversation. Damn that Bruce's luck!

Lois glanced at her interlocutor's dress and knew it was much more expensive than her own. She had thought Jim Gordon was the rare cop in Gotham that wasn't corrupted. Seems she was wrong. "Oh, thanks. It was one of my best articles."

Barbara chuckled out loud, "No. My father is not a sellout. I'm here as Bruce's date tonight."

Lois blinked. Bruce's date? What was wrong with him lately? Lex Luthor and Barbara Gordon?!? Neither of them was known for being the vapid and superficial date the man seemed to prefer. Besides, Clark had also been attracted to the man and, whatever you could say about Smallville, he was not superficial.

"You're his date!?!"

Barbara seemed to enjoy the situation, "Yes. I'm a friend of his first son and I was asked to help him keep an eye on his father." That actually seemed like a valid reason.

Lois glanced at Bruce finally turning to them, "Gladys! We had so much fun last time... Did you have to steal my clothes? I'm just glad no paparazzi found me for that particular walk of shame."

Lois coldly replied, "I'm Lois Lane, a reporter who interviewed you over two dozen times in the past ten years. Not one of your former 'dates'."

Bruce cocked his head, mildly confused, and hit his fist on his open hand, "That's why you seemed so familiar..." He seemed so genuinely proud he had 'recognized' her, she decided to address Thomas himself in order to avoid strangling him.

"Mr. Elliot, sorry to interrupt your little reunion but I really want to finish our interview. I'm sure you'll be busy the rest of the night. Should I reschedule it or...?"

"Ms. Lane, it seems you already Mr. Wayne but, I'll still introduce you." He put one hand on Bruce's shoulder, "Bruce here, is my dear childhood friend." 

Barbara was keeping a keen eye on the man while Bruce smiled back at his friend. There was something awkward going on there, Lois decided. 

"I'm glad you could come, Bruce. I know you hate this kind of event," Thomas Elliot continued. Lois blinked. Does Bruce really hate this kind of event?

Bruce laughed, "It's true it is too tame to my taste, still, it's not every day a childhood friend comes back from the dead."

"I wouldn't say I came back from the dead. Your second son, on the other hand..."

Lois stared at the brazen man bringing up a subject everyone knew Bruce would never really address. Barbara's eyes narrowed at Thomas, seemingly taking to heart her duty to keep an eye on Bruce. 

Bruce didn't even seem to feel the heat as he answered airily, "Talking about the dead, I think I see a scotch that is made to wake the dead up. Shall we have some to toast to the past?"

Thomas removed his hand from his friend's shoulder, "Unfortunately, I have a speech to make. We'll catch up later." Lois wasn't sure if it was a sincere wish.

"We will!" 

Lois had missed her chance to have an interview with Thomas Elliot, yet, she would get a scoop out of this evening or her name wasn't Lois Lane!

***

Damian was scowling at his father and Barbara. 

"What's the problem, D?" Steph had asked as she ate the food nobody seemed to be taken from the buffet table. What was throwing a party if good food was going to waste? She really didn't get rich people's thoughts.

He gestured at his father, "Why does he always allow an unworthy date by his side? Mother is the only one who should stand by his side. And my name is Damian, fat girl."

Steph almost choked on the thought of Talia Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne attending high-class events together. It was sure to end in a bloodbath. Besides, Barbara was technically the most 'worthy' public date Bruce had ever had. In fact, she had the confidence of a queen on her throne even though she was not a model.

Steph glanced around to verify no one was within earshot,"Uh, Damian, you do know your mother and Bruce don't really get along with one another, right?"

His face scrunched, "Why wouldn't they get along? My Mother calls him Beloved and told me he was the only worthy of being my father."

Why did this kind of trouble always end in Steph's lap? Bruce's remarkably low emotional and social intelligence. Right. Now, how do you explain to a kid his parents spend most of the time they spent together physically fighting for their very different ideologies? 

"Did you ever see them talk to one another? Except for when your mother dropped you off?"

"No," Damian answered, still not seeing what was wrong with that.

"Did your Father even know you existed?"

"No," Damian still unperturbed. 

"Why would you think they are getting along? They obviously don't spend time together and don't communicate much. Your mother kept you a secret from your father for over twelve years. Partners, romantic or otherwise, are not supposed to do that."

Damian stared at her as if she was the crazy one, "Partners are supposed to be carefully chosen to help you accomplish your goals and missions. I do not see what is wrong with that."

Steph took another bite in her food, deciding it was not worth another fight with him. Damian was incredibly messed up. It would take time for him to adjust to this world. Cass was adjusting and she could use some support from someone going through a similar transition as herself.

"Hi, Darlings," a woman interrupted their silence. Steph looked at her critically from top to bottom. She had an amazing red dress; the top highlighted her bosom while at the bottom of the mid-calf dress, there were drops of darker red peppering it. The darkish high-heels and purse matched her dress perfectly. Her blond hair was carefully arranged in a bun while makeup was a tad too thick for Steph's taste, yet still tasteful enough for most. The woman looked amazing and it was hard not to feel envious.

"Hi," Steph answered, swallowing her last bite of food. Damian continued to stare, broodily, at his Father.

The woman smiled at Damian, "Are you Bruce Wayne's son?"

"Yes," he haughtily responded.

"I didn't think kids would still be in this room," she commented.

Steph didn't like the considering looks the woman had sent Damian's way, "The restroom is in that direction if that is what you are looking for."

The woman showed her pearly whites with another smile, "The speech is starting soon. I heard there were entertainments for children in the next room. I thought it might interest you more than a boring old speech."

Damian glared at the woman, "I am not a kid, harlot." With that, he stalked towards his father, Barbara and Lois. 

Steph decided to try being somewhat polite to the lady who had been only trying to be helpful, even if she had seemed a bit paternalizing, "I'm sorry. He doesn't like to be called a kid."

The woman sighed, "But he is one."

"Thanks for the warning, though. What's your name?"

The woman brought one hand forward, "You can call me Sparrow." Her eyes gleamed while she was saying the name.

Steph frowned at the name but still shook the lady's hand, "You can call me Steph." 

"Enjoy your evening, Steph."

"You, too." 

***

"How long have you been friends with Thomas Elliot?" Lois asked.

"Since I was about seven or eight?" Bruce replied, eyes searching the crowd for someone. 

"He seemed particularly fond of you," Lois commented. 

Barbara seemed to be scanning the room with a hawkish alertness. 

"Most people are fond of me. Or was it fondle me?" 

"Father," Damian interrupted Lois's second attempt at getting information from someone in the evening. He really was exactly like his father!

"Damian," Bruce smiled in greeting, "Is there a problem? Where is Stephanie?"

Barbara was also studying the kid with attention. A blond girl in a green dress appeared at their side. "I'm here. There is no prob. He's just... nervous," she ended the sentence in a way that was obviously different from her initial intention by the way she had glanced over at Lois Lane before finishing. 

"I am not nervous," Damian immediately growled back. Although his physical appearance closely resembled his father's, his demeanour was completely opposite. 

Bruce put one hand on Damian's shoulder, "I know you are not nervous." The child seemed to relax somewhat at the touch more than at the words. Lois wasn't exactly sure what to make of the display; nobody had ever said Bruce was a good parent. She could even remember him asking his other minor son to fetch him some alcohol during his date with Lex Luthor. 

"Attention everyone!" Thomas Elliot's voice boomed in the microphone, "It is the moment everyone has been dreading: my speech." There were some polite laughs and clappings. 

The man appeared on the podium, "First of all, I want to thank every one of you for your presence tonight. I know how much courage it takes to get out and socializes in Gotham. I was born here after all." People politely applauded him. 

"Second of all, I want to thank my good friend Bruce Wayne." The clappings were louder this time. 

"If it wasn't for him and his father, I would never have chosen this profession. Some of you may know this story, but I'll nonetheless repeat it. When I was younger, both my parents were involved in a terrible car crash coming to fetch me from my friend Bruce's house and they should have both died. Fortunately for me, Bruce Wayne's father, the late Thomas Wayne, was on hand and managed to save my mother from death's hands. I was later told it was a miracle she had survived. I don't believe it was or if it was, it was a miracle brought about by Thomas Wayne himself." Some applauds were heard at the pause. 

"My friend, Bruce, was the one who had helped me hold it together during that hard period of wait. I give him my special thanks for that." Again, the clappings were louder. 

"It was after that period, that I found myself attracted to the profession of a neurosurgeon. I wanted to be able to do for others what Thomas Wayne had done for me. I want to give back to Gotham what I had received from Gotham." 

There was a smattering of applause; it wasn't loud enough to drown the sound of a gun firing. 

***  
Star City...

 

"Superman, I don't think this is working!" Green Arrow yelled as he evaded something akin to laser attacks from spectral-looking white lifeforms. 

Superman used his laser attack on them to repel them. The creatures recoiled and started escaping his sight, "They are scared of my laser vision."

Green Arrow launched another strange arrow at the retreating figures, "Well, don't stop now!"

Superman flew and appeared before them and used his laser vision on them, making them faint. Then, and, only then, could they physically touch the entities. 

"Who are they?"

Ollie shook his head, "I'm not sure. I'd guessed they are alien bounty hunters. They didn't seem interested in Black Canary earlier tonight, so, I am guessing I was their target."

"Still, you should communicate with Green Lantern to have them restrained before they become conscient again and start to drift through solid object again."

"Ah. I'm way ahead of you again, amigo, he should be here in a few."

Superman nodded. 

"Well, in the meantime, Boy Scout, you can tell me what is wrong with you."

Superman sighed. He had forgotten to explain to his best friend he was experiencing puberty at his age. To be honest, he was ashamed of it.

"Is it that obvious?"

Green Arrow chuckled, "Well, yes. Tonight, you wanted to fight."

Superman raised an eyebrow, "I always help you out when you need me to."

The blond man shook his head as he returned his arrow to his quiver, "Not like that. You enjoyed fighting. Normally, you do it as a sense of duty. Today, it wasn't like that."

Superman hesitated, "I started my Kryptonian puberty."

"Ooooh," Ollie elbowed the Steel Man (Superman made sure he wasn't hit full strength or Ollie would have been done for). Green Arrow winked, "That does explain a lot of what is going on with you."

"What are you talking about?" Superman answered a bit annoyed.

"That," Ollie responded, "You get annoyed for nothing. You recently fell in love with Bruce Wayne, for God's sake. You are more aggressive. You like fighting. You have mood swings... By the way, does that mean your lust also levelled up?"

Superman flushed,"Uh."

Ollie nodded as if he was a wise man, "I see." 

Superman tried hard not to fidget, "I am losing control of my emotions and body. I have violent urgent urges to punch things in space. How did you cope with your puberty?"

Ollie crossed his arms on his chest, "I went wild. Broke things and bones. I'm still surprised nobody came to claim I impregnated them during that period of my life. Puberty would be the most awesome time of your life if it wasn't so horrible."

Superman suddenly held his head in his hands, frowning.

"What's wrong? Kryptonite?" Ollie crouched defensively. 

"No," Superman mumbled out, "my head hurts."

"Magic?"

Superman regained his posture, "I don't know. It just came and went."

Ollie looked worried as he looked him over, "Maybe you should call it a night. I thought you never had headaches except for Kryptonite, magic and monstrous punches." 

"That's also what I thought," Superman replied looking at the inert forms of the aliens on the ground. 

Ding. 

Superman took his carefully hidden cell phone and looked at it faster than anyone could distinguish the cellphone's description before putting it down. Ollie could see his eyes darting in a direction. 

"Something wrong?" Green Lantern asked as he lowered toward them. 

Superman flew away.

"Hey, that's rude, you know!" Green Lantern yelled at the already disappearing superhero. 

Ollie was still frowning at the sky, "I don't like this."

"What? The fact he was ignoring me? I don't like that either."

Ollie shook his head, "No. Didn't see how pale he seemed? Something's wrong."

Green Lantern wasn't about to tell Ollie about his last conversation with Superman. The man was off his rockers, that was sure. 

***  
Gotham...

He only heard "Father!" as his sight turned black. 

For one brief moment, his memory flashed a vision of his mother and father fallen under a rain of bullets. 

***

"Nobody but a doctor moves!" Barbara ordered in the moments following the shot. 

"I'll help," a visibly shaken Thomas Elliot ran towards them. He bent over Damian holding his father up to stop him falling to the ground. Steph had also managed to get a hand on Bruce.

"Lower him slowly to the ground," Thomas Elliot instructed them. 

People started to move away. "Stop! I'm the commissioner's daughter," Barbara yelled, freezing them all in place, "Security guards, block the entrances. Nobody gets out until we find the shooter. 

"Is he still alive?" Lois couldn't help but ask as she looked at the bullet-pierced man. 

"He is," Thomas answered, "We need to bring him to the manor's small operating room. I'll probably have to remove his skull to let his brain swell without making any other damages."

"Do you have a trolley to carry him with?" Barbara snapped. 

"Yes."

"Get it." 

Barbara turned to Steph and Damian, "Are you both okay?"

Steph looked a bit disgusted as she nodded but she also looked determined. Damian still gripped his father's body as if he was scared he was going to simply walk away, which in the present situation, was highly unlikely. 

Barbara returned her attention to finding the shooter, "Security guards, has anyone gone out except Thomas Elliot?"

"No," she heard answers from all the exits. 

Thomas came back with a trolley, "I will need help on the operation. The faster we start, the better his chances are."

Barbara nodded, "Is there any nurses or doctors here?" 

Nobody answered. Thomas, Damian and Steph slowly lowered Bruce Wayne on the trolley. 

"Go," Barbara barked at Thomas and Steph, still scanning for the shooter. 

Damian was going with them, "Damian," Barbara interjected, "You should probably not participate in the operation."

He blanched in furor and growled back, "I am the biological son. Of course, I should help!" At that, he had run after his father's trolley.

Barbara heard gasps at the indiscreet statement. Although most had already guessed Damian was Bruce's biological child, it wasn't the same as it becoming confirmed public knowledge. Barbara had no time to deal with the fallout of the statement, nor of Damian's petulance; she had a shooter to find and a Bruce Wayne to save. 

"Lois," Barbara talked at her normal tone of voice, "you were slanted to see behind us. Did you see who shot Bruce?"

Lois, pale-faced, but otherwise unruffled, shook her head, "Unfortunately, no. Could it be the Joker?"

Barbara shook her head, carefully scanning the people in the room, "I doubt it." He would have turned this into a show, she didn't add as she frowned. 

Alfred had asked her to keep an eye on Bruce tonight. The least she could do was figure out what had happened. 

***

BB: B GOT SHOT!

R: WHAT?

N: Where was he shot?

BB: Head.

RH: F**k!

R: That's impossible... None of the cameras show anything wrong. The others didn't contact us...

N: Is he alive?

BB: Yes. Operate on.

N: I'm coming. Now. Keep me updated.

Nightwing has disconnected.

RH: What the f**k!

R: The cameras still don't show anything! I can't contact anyone except BB! B can't be shot. He can't be.

BB: He is. 

R: What calibre is it? Was the brain stem hit? Is the bullet still in or out of the head? Were both hemisphere of the brain hit or only one part? 

BB: Don't know.

R: He can't die like this. He's Batman. 

RH: F**k. I'm going. 

Red Hood has disconnected. 

R: This has to be M's and X's doing... Alien tech to limit outside interferences. Someone planned this... Someone wanted to shoot him in the head. Where he can never put armour to protect. 

BB: OK, Tim?

R: I'm fine. I'm fine. 

BB: Coming?

R: I'll come. I just have to launch Oracle's automatic system. This might still be a distraction. Why Bruce Wayne? What are they trying to achieve? 

 

***  
A bit earlier...

LL (Lois Lane): Clark. Bruce Wayne just got shot in the head.


	12. Gotham's Princeling Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone shot Bruce Wayne. Rumors claim it is Joker's doing. 
> 
> The Batfamily don't really believe it. They think 'M', who wants to flush Joker from hiding, and the mysterious 'X' with access to alien technology are behind this attempt on Bruce's life. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Hal Jordan is slowly going mad.

OQ (Oliver Queen): Lois, have you seen Clark?

LL: No.

OQ: He abruptly left after seeing your text and I'm getting worried.

LL: Did he show the text?

OQ: ...No. I was worried, ok?

LL: Invasion of privacy.

OQ: Like you are one to talk...

LL: I'm a reporter. Part of the job.

OQ: Potayto, potahto. So Clark isn't with you?

LL: No. They've just released everyone except one person. Clark isn't with the reporters outside. I don't think he would be able to get in, seeing as he has no official standing with...

OQ: Do you know where he could be? He's not in his apartment.

LL: Smallville?

OQ: Already checked. Other places he might go if he is upset?

LL: He's not often upset. I think he has one I don't know about.

OQ: Okay.

LL: Why are you so worried?

OQ: He was acting strangely and he looked really pale at the end. What's the deal between Bruce and Clark anyway?

LL: Didn't he tell you anything?

OQ: Except for his crush on Bruce? No.

LL: Not my place to tell you. Got to go. Big Scoop. Keep me posted on Clark.

OQ: Right...

***

It was the first time Steph had seen all the 'Wayne kids' together. Well, "together" may be an exaggeration seeing how they were acting.

Doctor Elliot explained Bruce's physical health.

"He's incredibly lucky," the man had told them first thing after the intervention while taking off his gloves. Steph and Damian had followed suit.

A fidgety Dick rose while Tim and Cass stayed sitting and Alfred and Jason waited to stand."He is going to be okay, right?"

Bruce Wayne's childhood friend simply answered, "He is incredibly lucky. The bullet was not stuck in his brain; the bullet didn't tear much of the brain tissue; no major vein was hit; neither was the brain stem and the hypothalamus; only one hemisphere of his brain was hit; we managed to remove the skull in time in order for the swelling not to damage the brain against the skull; no major blood loss; his hearing and vision are unaffected; he was treated quickly enough... He was lucky."

Dick had let out a relieved sigh the others were internally releasing one, "Any long-term effects?"

The surgeon nodded, "The section of his brain hit is normally linked with speech capacity and even though the intervention was successful, Bruce fell into a coma. His brain is experiencing activity, still, we have no clue when he will wake up. He may also have headaches for the rest of his life."

"But he will wake up," Tim frowned.

Thomas swallowed under the apt attention concentrated on him, "Probably. The body may have felt the need to protect itself from trauma."

"Don't you know anything about that?" Jason snarled aggressively at the doctor.

Thomas shrugged and suddenly looked much older, "Coma is not exactly a precise science. Doctors are often surprised by how little we control. I think he will wake up. I just don't know when. I had so much to discuss with him..."

"I'm sure you do," Alfred coldly answered. All the kids' head whipped in his direction: Alfred was always polite and he certainly never forgot to add the "Mr.", "Master", "Mrs.", "Miss." or "Mistress". Alfred's icy eyes aimed at the doctor having just helped Bruce was certainly a surprise to all of them.

Thomas sighed and pressed a palm on his face, "It was a long ago, Alfred. I was young and angry. I want to make amends now."

Alfred stepped in his direction, his face studiously blank, returning to his usual stoic butler demeanour, "Can we see him, Mister Elliot? Can he be moved?"

Thomas nodded, "Yes, you can go visit him. As for moving him, extra care must be taken for his head; it is still very fragile. I recommend you get an ambulance to get him to the hospital."

"He's not going to the hospital, Mister Elliot, if I have anything to say about it," Alfred replied as Dick, Cass and Tim were already hurrying into Bruce's room. Jason glanced at Damian and Steph, stopped uncertainly and slowly headed into Bruce's room.

Thomas Elliot shook his head, "He needs supervision."

"With all due respect, Mister Elliot, if Master Bruce only needs regular supervision from a doctor, I believe we can have a doctor stop by every so often."

Thomas raised his arms appeasingly, "Do what you want. I would still recommend he go to the hospital."

"Could you leave notes and all necessary information about Master Bruce, Mister Elliot?"

"Yes, I can."

"Good," With one last disapproving glance at Thomas Elliot, Alfred hurried in the room. The doctor sighed and looked at Steph and Damian slowly rinsing their hands, "Good job to both of you. You have really steady hands, especially you, Damian. Did your father teach you some basic medical procedures?"

Damian looked stressed and uncertain how to answer the praise so Steph cut in as innocently as she could manage, "How could Bruce teach him that? He's not a doctor like you."

Thomas Elliot gave her a sincere looking smile, "Since he was young, Bruce wanted to be a surgeon because of his dad. I'm sure he studied some medical procedures along the way."

That was news to Steph. Bruce, a doctor? His bedside manners would definitively suck, that much was true however his obsession with solving problems would be well employed. If he had gone that path, he would have needed an extraordinary assistant to deal with all of his social limitations (maybe Alfred could do it?).

"I'm sorry I only got to meet Bruce's family in these circumstances. Now, I'll go give the police a report," Thomas moved out of the room and Steph almost pitied the man who had made a party, had his childhood friend shot at said party, operated on said friend and then had to spend the night answering cops. Maybe it was a true "Gotham welcomes you" celebration.

Steph turned in time to see a sullen Damian walk into Bruce's room and she wasn't really sure what she should be doing. She wasn't particularly close to Bruce... Finally, she shrugged and entered the room to give her friends Cass and Tim some support.

***

BG (Barbara Gordon): Is he okay?

RG (Richard Grayson): He'll live. Might have issues with speaking, headaches... AND he is still in a coma.

BG: Oh. Do you want me to go find you?

RG: I'm okay.

BG: Are you sure? I know how much he means to you.

RG: He'll pull through. He always does.

BG: I'm not just offering to be polite, you know.

RG: Thanks, but I rather know you are working on finding the criminal. Bruce is no longer in a critical state.

BG: They found the gun that fired the round. .22 calibre. Unremarkable. Found in a man's pocket. He claims it's not his. Handprints are on it however, there is no recognizable fingerprint.

RG: ...glove?

BG: Maybe of a special kind, but I think not. I think someone lifted or copied Joker's burned fingerprints. Someone is probably planning on pinning the blame on Joker.

RG: Whoever they are, they must be crazy. Any other clue?

BG: They'll have to wait until later. But you have another issue to deal with.

RG: Which?

BG: Damian publicly stated he was Bruce's biological son.

RG: And?

BG: It'll make tomorrow's news. I know this sounds terrible to deal with at this point but, you really should start planning a public statement on the matter.

RG: That can wait.

BG: Dick, we both know it will impact Wayne Enterprises and Bruce. It needs some careful handling.

RG: I'll talk to Tim. He's the one who likes to deal with this kind of stuff.

BG: Dick...

RG: My dad just got shot in the head! I'm not playing pretend to help his business shares.

BG: Dick, I'm sorry I couldn't help your father more.

RG: It's not your fault. I'm sorry for taking it out on you. I'm not in a frame of mind to deal with the useless prejudice surrounding a bondless Omega having a child with an unnamed Alpha. That Alpha's name cannot, in any circumstances, be dragged in. That's my only worry. Except for that, it can wait for Bruce to wake up.

BG: Is everyone there?

RG: Yeah. Jason is spewing curses; Cass is even more quiet than usual; Tim is looking more anxious than usual; Alfred was angry with Thomas Elliot... I'm not sure whether to be impressed or worried Steph and Damian helped the operation. He's twelve. He shouldn't be calmly removing his father's skull after seeing him shot in front of him.

BG: He really shouldn't.

RG: I'll keep an eye on him. He tends to think showing emotions is a sign of weakness.

BG: Learning not to hide your hurt and worries from trusted friends is important. Some people have trouble learning that.

RG: I have to go. We're bringing him home. Alfred is worried someone will try to attack Bruce again. See you later.

BG: Don't beat yourself. Even if you had been present, I think he would have still been shot. I'm here if you need any help.

Richard Grayson has disconnected.

***

Tim looked at his phone and wasn't surprised to see Lex had sent messages. The last being: "Is he okay?"

Tim texted back: "He's alive. In a coma. Speech may be affected. Possible headaches. Otherwise, he is okay."

He only waited a few seconds before a response was provided: "Did you find who did it?"

The teenager furiously typed back: "The clues seem to be pointing at Joker. I still have to ask. Did you do it?"

"Why would I want him shot in the HEAD?" the bald man's texted and oddly enough, the 'head' argument was persuasive in his mind; Lex prized knowledge and intelligence so much he associated with Bruce and Tim because they were smarter than villains.

At least, that had been Tim's perspective before Steph had presented the theory Bruce had fallen in love with Lex. Tim may be curious, but he really wasn't sure he wanted to know exactly what the heck was going on between them (except if Lex was plotting something against Bruce or the world or if it affected Tim's relationship).

Nonetheless, it was Tim's working hypothesis, if Lex ever got Bruce killed he would try to study the man's brain, if for no other reason than curiosity. And shooting someone's brain out wasn't a good method to study that person's brain afterwards.

Still, Tim wanted to have more reassurance so he typed, "I heard Bruce had been stabbed less than three months ago at another public event. Why is it so different now?" He was asking a simple question: you tried to get him killed a while ago (and accidentally almost got me killed in another incident), how can we be sure it isn't your doing?

"There is a big difference. I've heard app killers are normally hired to send a message. They seldom work. If you want an assassination to work, you hire the best people you know," Lex texted back.

Tim blinked, "There is an app to find killers?"

"Yes. It is cheap and easy. I've heard they were not really reliable," Lex Luthor replied.

"You have to give me the link to that app, I'll investigate the matter," Tim texted back, mind whirling with what Lex had disclosed. Lex had hired an app killer to tried to assassinate Bruce to send a message. To whom? Bruce or...Clark? And he had hired the League of Shadow, which is probably one of the most reliable people for assassination, to kill Superman. Conclusion: Lex really hated Clark and might not really hate Bruce all that much. Tim suddenly wasn't sure what to feel about that conclusion. He really hated analyzing feelings, whether his own or other people's.

"I'll send it later today in a secure network and you should delete all proof of this conversation. Are you sure the aim was to kill Bruce?" Lex texted back.

"He was shot in the head," Tim typed as the car turned on another street, Damian and Steph being uncharacteristically quiet in the other seats, something the teenager was thankful for.

"Exactly, he was shot in a non-deadly way in the head in front of one of the most renowned neurosurgeons in the world. Killing someone with a gun is normally easy enough, from what I heard. You choose something that will produce shrapnel or has a big calibre or has a great velocity to it. What kind of gun was even used?" Lex replied.

"A .22, it seems," Tim texted back.

"A handgun. Not the most deadly by far. Although it is one of Joker's preferred method of execution, he normally does a show, not a quiet assassination," Lex's words appeared almost instantly on Tim's phone.

"Yes, we doubt it is Joker's doing," Tim admitted.

"And it is possible the aim was something other than Bruce's death," Lex reasoned.

"Bruce did think someone wanted to flush Joker out of his hiding place and that someone else was backing them with alien technology," Tim confessed.

"Even if this person aiming for Joker was the one doing it, I think the idea of shooting Bruce's brain originates from the backer. Did Bruce say what that backer wanted?"

"No. He thought that person was extraordinarily dangerous. Especially since the alien technology can fool our technology in surveillance. We don't know its limit," Tim answered.

"That's no good. We do need more information," Lex replied.

"I know."

"Tim, I want to visit Bruce but, I'm sure the family has enough high emotions at the moment without dealing with me. Can you text me when it would be ideal for me to come?" Tim mentally translated the text by: "Tim, I want to visit Bruce but, knowing your family's vigilantes, I doubt it would be wise for me to appear right now. When do you think I could come without getting shot?"

"I'll text you."

"Good. I hope he gets well soon."

"Thanks," Tim answered by text.

"Have you finished wasting your time on pathetic entertainment, Drake?" Damian callously called out.

"What I do is none of your business," Tim snapped at him.

"It certainly is none of your business my father got shot. He's not your family," Damian growled.

"Ok, stop it, both of you, "Steph interfered, "I know it's been hard on all of us. We don't need to turn against one another."

Tim raised an eyebrow and looked at Damian's angry face. Damian had appeared at the Wayne Manor and had been accepted instantly even if he would later betray Bruce's trust. Even then, Bruce had given him a second chance, disregarding how reckless and dangerous his son was. Tim, on the other hand, had proved his brilliance by finding out Bruce Wayne was Batman. He had to prove himself every step of the way and gain Dick's and Alfred's support to finally gain Bruce's reluctant acceptance. After Tim's parents had died, Bruce had taken pity on him and adopted him. Since then, Tim had proved himself invaluable time after time, physically and mentally. Tim had always been loyal to Bruce. Still, a kid who had known Bruce less than two months pretended Tim's three years at Bruce's side meant nothing.

"I wasn't the one who let him get shot in front of me. I thought you were one of the best assassins in the world. What do assassins do again? That's right they only know how to kill people," the words tumbled out of Tim's mouth before he could rethink them.

There may have been a flash of pain in Damian's eyes. Then again, the anger and resentment appeared so fast Tim was on his guard for a physical attack, "At least assassins know how to do at least one thing right, Drake, whereas you are the most pathetic excuse of a waste of space I have ever met. You lack courage and a backbone."

"STOP!" Steph yelled before either of them could add anything to their discourse, "Your father just got shot! Don't just spew insults like broken fire hydrants!"

Alfred answered from behind the wheel, "I believe, Mistress Stephanie, has a point. No one else should be hurt tonight." His tone was warning enough.

Tim reluctantly closed his mouth. He had to be the mature one, the responsible one, the forgiving one. Why the heck did he need to do that? Damian was annoying, antisocial, reckless, arrogant and dangerous. Tim was socially adapted, forgiving, prudent and mostly obedient. Why would Tim always give chances after chances to an ungrateful Damian? Maybe now, while Bruce was unconscious, was the right time to put the kid back in his rightful place... 

***  
Early morning...

Hal hated using the Watchtower's transporter and he was uncomfortable approaching Superman after his two last encounters with the man. He really wasn't made to deal with him.

Still, Hal had to at least check on his fellow superhero, especially with how Oliver Queen had been trying to get in touch with him. He had been frantic with his communications while Hal had to secure all those nice bounty hunters and send a message to Oa on how to proceed with them.

At one point, Green Arrow had turned to him and had asked, "Do you have any idea where he could have gone to, Hal?" Green Arrow was not one to casually drop their civilian names when they were still dressed as superheroes.

Hal had looked at the worried Ollie, "Look, I don't know why you are making such a big deal over his paleness. Is there something I don't know?"

Ollie had swallowed and slowly scratched his beard, "Do you remember he had a crush on someone?"

"Yeah," Hal had snorted, thinking back to Superman's confession he liked Bruce Wayne at a gala they were to stop an alien invasion. Put back in perspective, it made Green Lantern winced; he might have guessed Bruce was proposing him to date Superman and not look like a total idiot the first time he had seen him in that context if he had remembered about that incident.

"Well," Ollie had glanced about, "that person got seriously hurt."

That had perked Hal's attention, "How was he hurt?"

"Got shot in the head at a party Joker had claimed he was going to be attending."

Hal grimaced in commiseration, "That's harsh. And Superman?"

Ollie had shaken his head, "You know he is my best friend. I don't know where he is."

"You're really this worried about him?"

Ollie had nodded with furrowed brows.

Of course, Hal had promised Superman he would never reveal his Fortress of Solitude's location to anyone so, he had to wait until the bounty hunters were picked up to go in the middle of nowhere to check on Superman's health at the Fortress of Solitude. Seriously, he should have known better than get involved with Bruce; he had smelled like trouble and Hal was sure it was only going to get worse from here.

Hal cleared his throat at the icy door, "Uh, Superman, could you, like, open this door before I freeze my balls off?"

A mechanical voice answered, "Voice recognition acknowledged. This is Green Lantern. Scanning."

"Scanning?" Hal managed before he heard a whirr and the voice continued, "Bioscanned confirmed. Green Lantern. Access approved." Freaky, Hal thought. Normally the door simply opens as soon as Hal got there. Then again, he usually accessed the door on appointment.

Well, no matter, he was only here for a quick check-up. Hal slowly walked in the grand ice palace. He always got goose-bumps here: it looked too much like a tomb, not enough like a home.

The bedroom they usually used was empty so he headed into the entertainment area (or lounging area? Hal wasn't sure how to call it). There, he had to stop a moment to take in the picture.

Clark or Superman, whoever this was, was writing on something akin to a huge whiteboard taking more than half of the wall length and height. Whatever was written was written to small for Hal's eyesight to distinguish even what characters were used. Clark was floating and seemed to think and write simultaneously, which looked a lot like when Barry had speed think and write together; too fast for anyone else to follow. Clark was casually dressed but had abandoned his glasses. He seemed so absorbed in what he was doing he did not seem to hear Hal's arrival.

Hal coughed and Clark's laser eyes focused on him with a sharpness that made Hal squirm.

"What are you doing here, Hal?" Clark neutrally asked while his eyes narrowed.

Hal wasn't one to get intimidated easily, "Funny. That should be my question. Your not quite-casual-lover got shot in the head, you are not answering Ollie at all and you lock yourself in this place to write a novel?!?" Hal waved in the wall's direction.

There was a brief pause before Superman answered, now frowning at the wall, "It's not a novel."

"Why don't you tell me what it is then? Since I'm such an idiot?" Hal replied sarcastically.

Superman seemed lost in thought for quite a while. Hal was on the edge of floating to the man and reasoning with him when he heard Superman speak, "I'm adding things to Batman's plan."

Ok, that's perfectly logical. Fine tuning Batman's plan. "Don't mock me, Superman," Hal snarled angrily, "If you don't want to answer, don't answer. Don't mock me."

"I'm not mocking you," Superman answered irritably.

Hal waved a finger aggressively at Superman, "You never fine tune Batman's plans. He always does it himself. You either contest it completely or accept it."

Superman frowned at him, "Regardless. That's what I am doing right now."

"Better question. Why are you fine tuning Batman's plan?"

"Contrary to most people think, Batman's thinking has his flaws that are directly connected to his perception of the world," Clark solemnly started, "He wants the world to keep a status quo. He wants the League to get the information and technology to protect Earth. But, his plan does not make any mention of using the technology to better humankind. In fact, it only makes mention of stopping or limiting the use of alien technology on Earth except for defence purposes."

Hal stared dumbfoundedly at Superman, "Can you, you know, float down?"

Superman looked at his feet and seemed surprised he had been floating at all. He grounded them on the floor.

"Are you telling me what I think you are telling me?" Hal studied this new facet of Superman.

Superman didn't lower his determined gaze, "Yes. I want us to incorporate some alien technologies on Earth."

"Are you fucking insane? That's, like, the Pandora box we should never open!"

Superman shook his head a bit sadly, "I'm a reporter, Hal. Do you know how close we are to the non-return point in the way humanity is affecting our planet with climate change? We block villains' ambitions, however, their terrorism is unlikely to devastate the Earth before we simply commit self-destruct."

"Aren't you supposed to be edging people to change instead of chasing for a miracle answer? Besides, don't you only write about Superman?" Hal asked.

"What do you think I do for a living, Hal? I usually don't write about Superman; I only do it if I don't have time to research on another subject due to a Superman-type crisis. I am hopeful we can turn the situation around but, we are beginning to run out of time, Hal and there is nothing Superman can do to stop it."

Hal could see Superman clenching his fists in anger.

"I can freeze the melting glaciers to give us a bit more time. I can melt away garbages or throw them away. It, not a long-term solution; I can't stabilize the weather to favorize crops growth, Hal. We can't just immigrate elsewhere either, Hal. You know how intergalactic wars start," Superman stated.

"I do," Hal admitted, still uneasy with all Superman had said, "So, if Batman is not including technology to save our asses in his plan, does it mean he doesn't care about all that?"

Superman glared at him, "Of course, he does. He is changing things. He just doesn't want us to use alien technologies as a clutch to the issue. I don't agree. I'm not leaving another one of my people get destroyed. I refuse to be, again, the last survivor of my people. And I don't care if I have to open Pandora's box to avoid it."

Hal suddenly grasped an idea; Superman cared more for Earth as a whole than anyone else of the League did. It was true. Green Lantern, Green Arrow, Flash and Batman all cared about their towns or cities, but they had limited energy and lifetime. Arthur and Diana cared for their people and, in many ways, had no energy to spend on other issues. J'onn, well, he was always distanced and remote, mourning the loss of his kind. Superman, on the other hand, was raised on Earth. Knew what baseball and football were. Liked to eat even if it was useless to him. He saved people from every corner of the world daily... and his nightmare was to be left the last of 'humankind', especially considering he would probably outlive most of the humans he now knew. 

Hal felt his stomach churn: Superman was one of the most convinced non-interventionalist idealists in the League. He could normally convince the others of the need for neutrality and democracy. Diana and Green Arrow were always pushing for more social changes heralded by the Justice League. If the charismatic League's leader changed his mind...

Then, Hal looked at the wall again, suddenly remembering what had brought this subject up, "That's all very interesting but, it begs the question: what has this to do with Bruce's shooting?"

Superman deflated in front of him and Hal could no longer see the convinced and good orator that was the chosen leader of the Justice League. Instead, he could see the frayed doubt and anxiety thrumming in the man: the Flash-like nervous movement in his hands and the forehead crinkles Hal's older brother had when they were running out of food to eat. 

Clark-because that was definitely not Superman in front of him- passed his palm in his hair, messing up the already messed up hairdo, "I..."

Hal raised an eyebrow, "You're not a villain. You don't make long-winded speeches for the heck of it, especially since you hate having to prepare speeches for the League. Now, 'fess up."

Clark sighed in defeat, "Medical."

Hal crossed his arms, "What?"

"Alien medical technology would help human's chances of surviving traumatic injuries. Bruce will be fine. That's what I overheard the doctor say. This time, Earth's technology was enough but, what will happen next time something like this happens?"

Hal wasn't exactly sure what to answer him. Losing someone close to you was a basic human fear. There was no easy cure.

It's not as if you could promise your kid you'd always be there for them and keep them safe. That would be a lie. Hal knew death took you no matter how many promises you had made. His father had died young and it was unlikely Hal would die much older considering his risky lifestyle. Barry had so much to look forward to, so many promises to keep. Death didn't care when they plucked him from life. 

Superman's eyes dropped to another corner of the room and Hal' s eyes widened at the destruction he saw there, "You broke all that?"

Superman shamefully nodded, waiting for Hal's judgment.

"Whoa. I think this answers the question of whether you love him..."

"It's," Superman mumbled, still looking anywhere but at Hal's eyes," a lot more complicated than that..."

Hal slapped Superman across his back, trying to get them away from the morbid subject of loved one's deaths, "Really? Wow, talk about being in denial."

Superman legit fidgeted with his clothes as he muttered, "I may have accidentally bonded with him...?"

"You BIT him without his permission!?!" Hal yelled, outraged.

Superman swallowed, "No. I'm Kryptonian. It seems the ritual for bonding is different...? I don't know. It's just, I felt a headache at the same time he was shot. I don't ever feel a headache except for magic and Kryptonite effects... I've checked with the Fortress and it seems that feeling major wounds from someone else is proof the bond is made."

Hal passed a hand in his hair, "F**k... So, he bonded with you and he didn't agree to it?"

Superman looked at him with earnest eyes, "I'm the Kryptonian one. I'm the one who may be bonded to him."

"That means?"

"I'm probably bonded to him. He's probably not bonded to me. He could get bonded to someone else."

Hal didn't know how to reassure Superman, because it really was a mess and he hated dealing with complicated emotional issues. He had thought Bruce was the one who was going to be the issue. Apparently, both Bruce and Superman were going to be troublesome... Hal suddenly wished he had never called the number on the card Bruce Wayne had given him. 

"But you love him, right?" Hal decided to ask one of the most awkward questions he could ask in this situation.

The shy reporter nodded. The answer was much clearer than his stance in their previous conversation together.

"Then, why the hell did you get me involved in your love game?" Hal's tone might have been slightly pissed.

Superman tilted his head and blinked as if it was evident, "Well, Bruce might trust me, I don't trust him. He always has hidden agendas and, as Superman, I have to make sure nobody is unduly influencing me."

"Why me?" Hal asked, getting more and more irritated at being included in this ridiculous rom-com or spy-shit show, whichever this was.

"You never have hidden agendas," Superman candidely answered.

F**k.

For once in his life, Hal wanted to strangle Superman. Yeah, Hal, you hate complications so much you decide to cut romance out of your life and what happens? F***ing Superman decide to complicate the hell of your life with something worse than your own romance because you are uncomplicated!

"So, that's why there are the "rules" I am not to have sex with him?"

Superman immediately denied it, "No. That's all Bruce. I actually think you and Bruce having sex together is hot, well, after he recuperates, of course. You have great chemistry together, which is another reason why you were perfect for this."

"You think you love the guy, learned you are accidentally half-bonded with him after he got shot in the head and you still want me to have sex with him?" Hal had enough of this conversation: he had come to check on Superman, not to get pissed at his fellow superhero.

Superman nodded, "I feel jealous imagining anyone having sex with him. Except for you."

Calm down Hal, he had to tell himself, his not-exactly-casual-not-exactly-bonded-lover just got shot in the head. Finally, he decided to address the elephant in the room: Clark's coping strategies. "If you love him so much, why aren't you visiting him instead of preparing for your next League meeting? You're definitively not up to make a rational decision at this point, anyway."

"I only visited his home twice. One of those time, Ollie got us quickly ejected. His family really don't know my connection with him. I can't really appear at his doorsteps," Clark confessed in a calm voice. 

...Was there an emergency Hal could pretend he had to attend right now? Why were the Guardians only interrupting with the worst timing possible (don't even get him started on how many sexy dates with Carol had been interrupted at the good part) and never when he wanted an interruption? It had to be on purpose... Or it meant the universe hated Hal's guts. At this point, either possibility was just as likely.

It was time for Hal to bail or ask reinforcement. 

"Uh, do you want me to contact someone... or something?"

Superman plastered an unconvincing smile, "No. I'll be fine, Hal. I just time to organize my thoughts." He must have noticed Hal's skeptical look at the whiteboard filled with Superman's writing, because he added, "I'll just take tomorrow off and try to sleep a bit." 

"Well, it was good seeing you. Bye," Hal said in the most unconvincing way possible before he zipped out of the room, dismissing any worry about leaving a weird-thinking Superman alone. 

Hal had forgotten he was working in exactly three hours and he had gotten a grand total of zero sleep. It would be an understatement to say Carol was not going to be impressed. 

The universe really needed to get punched were it hurts...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit longer than usual.
> 
> I actually wanted to show Jim Gordon's point of view of Jason almost getting into a fight with a cop to go see Bruce. It would have made this much too long. Instead, this was a chapter mostly preparing incoming issues in the batfamily and presenting a bit more of Clark's perspective. Problems are bound to happen in too many directions to count...
> 
> Next chapter summary: tensions are high within the Batfamily. How long will Bruce be unconscious? Should anyone else take Batman's cowl? Who should do it? Who should take care of Wayne Entreprises? Will anyone die from 'friendly' fire (Lex, Damian, Tim, Jason or Dick are all viable options at this point)?


	13. Gotham's Princeling Part V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is unconscious and the world doesn't stop turning on itself.

Lois Lane angrily typed her piece of news, occasionally drinking the cup of coffee she had bought after being released from the party. Although she was getting her name published on the front page, she was furious it was about the man she was investigating getting shot in the head. The reporter had gone to the party to gather evidence on Bruce's true face, not to see him get shot. 

"Who did it?" a voice startled her out of her work. She spilled some coffee on her desk, cursed and looked at Clark staring blankly at her in a way she hadn't ever seen before.

"Geez, Smallville, would you at least let me know you are there before you give me a heart attack?" Her heart was still beating at a hundred miles per hour. 

Clark didn't look apologetically at all as he repeated, "Who did it?"

Lois examined him from head to toe. If he hadn't dressed like Clark, she would have thought she was dealing with Superman. Gone were the slouch, the fidgety timidity and the beloved country pumpkin demeanour. She needed another gulp of coffee. As she took one, Clark stood unblinkingly.

The petite reporter narrowed her eyes in concern, "They don't know yet. Are you okay, Clark?"

"I heard rumours say Joker did it," Clark answered her and, for the first time, a slight tremble in the voice betrayed his loss of composure.

Lois sighed, "Maybe. Maybe not. Apparently, it was not exactly his style."

"Assassination?" The perplexed voice answered her.

"Quiet assassination," Lois corrected, "Are you okay? Ollie was worried as hell about you and you're starting to worry me too. Take a seat, we can talk about it if you want or you can keep me company until I finish my article."

He sat at his desk while Lois continued at hers. For the longest time, Clark didn't say anything. Then, as she was finishing her article, he simply said, "I can't let whoever shot him get away with it."

Lois casually remarked, "What about Batman?"

He froze and defensively replied, "What about him?"

Lois pushed her hair behind her ear to keep them off her face, "He is territorial. From what you told me, I doubt if he will take it well if you walked all over his territory without his permission, besides, he is supposed to be the best detective in the world, so, he should be able to track the criminal. Are you going to team up with him even if he is, and I quote, a 'stubborn asshole'?" 

Her reminder of how he always complained about Batman's terrible personality fell flat. If anything, Clark looked sadder, guiltier and angrier. At least, she figured it was better than the blank face he had first appeared with.

"I think... Batman will not oppose my involvement this time," Clark finally admitted, the words seemingly carefully chosen.

Lois raised an eyebrow at the statement, "Based on what you told me about him, I sincerely doubt that." Clark swallowed and looked outside. This behaviour had the putrid stench of a secret or a lie. Clark was trying to hide something. Again. When would he learn? 

Still, she was his friend. "Are you going to see Bruce?"

Clark loudly exhaled, "I'm not really in a position to ring his doorbell."

Her eyebrows rose, "He's not at a hospital?"

Her colleague shook his head and his lips even curled upwards in a tentative smile, "He doesn't really attend them if he can avoid it."

Lois filed that information into the growing miscellaneous section of her head about Bruce Wayne's strangeness. She had not felt this close of a gigantic secret since the day she had deduced nerdy Clark Kent was Superman. 

She was only hoping Bruce Wayne wouldn't die before she thoroughly destroyed his facade. When she had talked to Vicky Vale during the wait after the assassination attempt, the Gotham reporter had confessed there was a solid assassination and three kidnapping attempt yearly on Bruce Wayne. It was a miracle he hadn't died yet, seeing how stupid he was although there was a saying about an idiot's luck. 

Lois remembered Bruce had been stabbed at a gala, had been used as a hostage (with a whole room) during the clairvoyance event he had been dating Lex Luthor, had been chased with Lex by the ridiculous anti-hero Lobo and had now been shot in the head, all of which had happened in a two months period. And people called her the damsel in distress? She was never that bad. Well... except for the day she had been captured twice... But that didn't count.

***

The morning after Bruce's shooting had been awful. Dick had thought that after Alfred had sternly ordered them all to bed (yes, even Jason) at five in the morning, things would have settled enough for them to have breakfast together without worry. He had been dead wrong.

The newspapers lying on the table were a stark reminder of the previous evening's events.

"Prince of Crime Shoots Gotham's Prince?", the Washington Post's headline presented.

"Bruce Wayne Shot at his Friend's Homecoming Party", the Daily Planet announced.

Of course, the one that started the fight was the Gotham Gazette's "Damian Wayne Confirms he is the Biological Son of Bruce Wayne!" with the equally tasteful photo of distressed and defensive looking Damian from the previous night. Bruce Wayne's shooting was on the tenth page.

Dick heard Tim's sharp breathe intake before a clear accusation sounded, "You just had to brag, couldn't you?"

Damian glared back, "What are you talking about, Drake?"

Tim waved aggressively at the newspapers, "He just got shot but, you recklessly thought it was the perfect time to brag he was your biological father."

Damian blinked as if taken by surprise, "He is my father, Drake."

Tim leaned on the table, "That's right, he is your father. That's why you chose the moment he got shot to weaken his social status by broadcasting that fact. Didn't you even think how this is going to affect his business? His life? No, it's always about your spoiled brat's needs! Well, I'm fed up with you getting away with everything!"

It was the more furious Dick had ever seen Tim and it was unnerving to see the usually more restrained and controlled people in the Manor, Alfred and Tim, losing control.

"Tim," Dick intervened, "don't be too hard on him. Babs told me it slipped out after Bruce had just been shot. It wasn't on purpose."

Tim's fury fuelled eyes found him, "Dick, stop defending him."

Dick tried matching his patent understanding look with a calm hand on Tim's slouched shoulders, "Look, yesterday was rough on everyone."

Tim escaped the hand and faced Dick with a harsh tone, "Tell me, does that mean you'll clean up his mess, this time?"

Dick again tried to diffuse the situation by deflecting the conversation, "We have more urgent things to do. We have a shooter to bring to justice."

"Golden Boy is escaping the responsibilities. Again. You're probably on your own to fix the situation, Replacement," Jason's voice slithered from the doorway. The young man was leaning on the wall with his arms crossed and a mocking expression on his face.

"Jason," Tim answered with a frown.

Jason stared daggers at Dick and said, "Why don't you tell us how you plan on bringing the shooter to justice?" Dick knew this was a test of his standing as all three of his brothers waited for his idea.

Dick swallowed and answered as steady as he could manage after the eventful night, "Simple. We set up the next 'Joker' stunt with the media and M will come thinking Joker set it up. The Joker might come to have revenge on the perpetrator who uses his name. We catch them both."

None of the three faces staring at him changed expression. 

"Joker will probably do something outrageous if we use his name," Tim commented, "He might endanger a lot of innocents since he knows we care about them."

Damian's crossed arms rested on his chest as he said, "I do not know why you are so scared of a grotesque clown. You're all supposed to be vigilantes."

Dick gestured, "Tim, we can't let the enemy have the initiative. We need to counter attack. As for Joker, well, he was probably already plotting something terrible. We need to catch them all before this escalates like it always seems to do here."

Finally, Jason strutted forward with a questionable grin pasted on his face, "So, you will arrest them as Batman and Robin?"

Dick snapped a quick "No!" His stomach churning at the uncomfortable thought of donning the cowl. He sees the tide has changed when Jason's lips reveal his teeth as a rabid dog would.

"Who's going to arrest them, then?" Tim asked, disgruntlement craking in his teen voice.

"Nightwing. Red Robin. Red Hood. Robin. Black Bat. Oracle. Spoiler."Dick pointed to each of the brothers as he called their names.

Jason shook his head in a mockery of the oldest, "Where is Batman in your grandiose plan, Golden Boy?

Dick opened his mouth but, Jason's sharp tone stopped him, "Joker announced, for all the world to know, that he was in Gotham shooting at people, yet, Batman does not appear?" Jason caught the front of Dick's shirt in his hands.

"Gotham has other heroes and Blüdhaven's hero can help them out," Dick courageously defended, purposely not responding to Jason's physical provocation, knowing it would not improve the situation at all. They needed to stand together, especially now.

Jason easily heaved the smaller adult in the air and pushed him hard against the wall. "Blüdhaven. Ha, that's funny. That's where the ones who can't make it in Gotham go hide." 

Dick felt the sting of truth in Jason's accusation as sharply as his back felt the wall. There was certainly an agreement in Tim's accusatory stare. Damian seemed bored at being sidelined.

"Batman has been scaring the shit out of Gotham's criminal for ten years now; Robin has been the hope of Gotham for nine. Nobody cares about Nightwing here. He's been Blüdhaven crappy hero for less than six years," Jason taunted but, a darkness in his eyes underlined he meant it. He dropped Dick on the floor, not bothering to physically hit him even though it was clear he was yearning to do it.

Dick had never regretted going to Blüdhaven to become his own person. Still, seeing how Jason and Tim perceived it as a betrayal of his vow to protect Gotham as Robin saddened him. They, at the core, always felt Gotham was home, even though Jason travelled away each time he couldn't handle any more proximity to Bruce. Dick's home, on the other hand, was people, not a specific place; it was the people of the circus, it was the brave police officers that fought for a better tomorrow and, yes, it was his family and friends in Gotham. Still, part of his family and friends in Gotham, if not all, thought he was a traitor.

"Are you going to accept Batman's cowl until this has been settled?" Tim attacked him in a figurative pincer movement.

"No. I can't," Dick felt his figurative higher ground slipping from under his figurative feet.

"Why not? You did so before," Tim argued, resentment ringing clear.

"At Bruce's request! I'd never take it if he didn't ask me to! Batman is him!"

"I can be Batman," Damian interjected from the same posture he had from the beginning of the conversation, "I'm a better fighter than Grayson anyway and I am Batman's biological son."

Tim, Dick and Jason looked in surprise at the kid they had all forgotten and Jason burst laughing. "That is funny, brat," Jason snorted.

"You only met one of Batman's supervillain and you almost got yourself and Bruce killed. So, no," Tim glared at his rival as if he was an idiot, "You can't be Batman. You shouldn't even be allowed to have Robin in your name."

"I still can't do it. Bruce is Batman. I have no right to wear his cowl without his consent," Dick answered, cutting out Damian's outrageous reply and momentarily keeping the peace.

Jason studied him up and down with disdain, "You were always the coward, Golden Boy, even if you were always his favourite."

"I'm not..."

"Well, since Gotham needs a Batman and Golden Boy is a wuss, I'll do it," Jason angrily declared.

"That could work," Tim agreed. He turned to Dick, "You're the oldest. If you don't want to be Batman, you can take on some of Bruce Wayne's responsibilities until he wakes up. Your voice has the most authority with the Wayne board, even if Jason is technically our pack's Alpha. Are you going to take care of the Demon Brat's scandal?"

"What scandal?" Damian demanded with a frown. 

Jason sighed, "This is boring stuff. I'm going home to take care of my affairs. Robins, you better be waiting for me in the Cave at 9:00 p.m. tonight. We've got things to settle." Jason stormed away. 

Tim's eyes hadn't lost their intensity as they pierced Dick, "Are you?"

"Tim, I'm not here to take care of Wayne Entreprises. I'm here because Bruce got shot, not to replace him," Dick answered his younger brother.

Tim's eyes narrowed and he clarified, "That's a definite no."

"Yes."

Tim glared at him and glowered at Damian, "Fine. I'll salvage the situation. Like I always do. You better not do anything foolish again, Demon Brat or I'm kicking you out of the home, Bruce or no Bruce."

"You have no authority over me, Drake," the youngest responded with a sneer.

"For someone raised by murderous and unrepentant villains, you are surprisingly naive," Tim answered with a dignity that was slightly contradicted by the way he slammed the door out of the room without having eaten his breakfast. 

Damian glared at the door for good measure and questioned, "What was that about a scandal, Grayson?"

Dick sat and slicked back his hair, "You publicly said Bruce is your biological father."

Damian seemed angrier, but, by now, Dick could see how it covered up his genuine confusion about the situation, "Yes."

Dick gestured to the Gotham Gazette, "He's an unbonded Omega known for having flings with everyone with a pulse. Having a child out of wedlock in his position undermines his status as a CEO."

"That makes no sense."

Dick examined the frustration all over his youngest brother's face, "I know. It's just how it works here." He couldn't stop himself from asking, "The League of Shadows must have its own rules. What were they?"

Damian answered with an uncaring shrug, "Strength. Whoever has the strength to bring their wish about was in the right. The ones who didn't are in the wrong. Father was acknowledged by Grandfather. He can do almost everything he wants. That's why the League lets him have this 'Batman' hobby he has."

Dick gazed at Damian. Although the boy looked like Bruce, his personality was much different. There were confidence and brashness where Dick's mentor had reservations and caution. Bruce was famous for the Batfamily for his innate lack of communication skills while Damian was known for his utter lack of filter. Still, claiming Bruce's mission as Batman was a 'hobby'...

"Is that what you think? That Batman is a hobby?" Dick softened his voice. He needed to keep their unity in the face of dangerous enemies. He needed to understand Dami better. 

Damian shook his head, "It's not a hobby. Not for Father, at least. I don't understand why. Grandfather and Mother have ambitions that span the world while Father is focused on an ugly city?"

Dick was thankful Jason and Tim were out of the room for this conversation. They would have both picked a fight with Damian. Dick, on the other hand, could see why an outsider would consider Gotham ugly. 

Dick took his cup of untouched coffee and drank a saving gulp before answering, "Have you considered that, for Bruce, Gotham is the whole world?"

Damian frowned, "Gotham is a city, not a world."

Dick weakly smiled, "It really depends on how you view the world, Damian. What is the world for you?"

"Earth."

"What part of Earth do you love?" 

Damian scowled at Dick, "I don't need to love it. I'll just own it."

Dick shook his head, "Then, what do you love?"

Damian scowled harder at Dick until the eldest continued, "You don't have to answer now but, think about it, will you? Because what you love becomes your world and it is important to recognize it, to know and appreciate what you have. One day, you might lose it forever." 

Unconsciously, they both looked in the direction of Bruce's bedroom.

"Will he really be alright?" Damian's young voice had never sounded more like a child to Dick's ears.

"It might take a while but, he should be," Dick reassured him, "But, I can take a hug right now."

"No," Damian glared and Dick really needed this adorableness in his life, especially after the chewing both his younger brothers had given that same day. Dick rose and gave his youngest brother a tight hug, "I love you, Dami. I hope you know that."

"Release me." Damian didn't fight out of the embrace and might have leaned a tiny bit into it, not that Dick was going to point it out (he did want to be allowed more hugs in the future after all). 

Dick tightened the hug a bit more and finally released him, "By the way, Dami, can you cook?"

The youngest gave him a puzzling look, "Yes. That's a basic life's skill everyone should cultivate."

"Alfred would kill me if I tried to cook in his kitchen and I rather not disturb his time with Bruce for that. Nor wake up Cass after a night of patrol," Dick confessed. 

Damian blinked and Dick looked more imploring until Damian glared, "You are really useless."

Dick didn't flinch. Apparently, this morning, all of his brothers thought him useless. That didn't matter. He just needed to be by their sides when they needed it the most. 

()

"You were the first Robin?" Jason's thirteen-years-old voice rang in his head, "That's so wicked! You've got to teach me how you do your weird ninja moves!" 

Dick remembered his own cold reply, "Where's Bruce? I need to speak to him. Now." 

Jason's excited smile had vanished and he had shrugged, an older and more critical expression covering his face, "I'm not his guardian." 

Dick had then examined the street rat Alpha succeeding him in the Robin position and he had felt something he had very rarely ever felt in his heart: jealousy. So, because Dick had quitted as Robin and had moved away, Bruce had just replaced him with the first Alpha kid orphan he had found? He should have known Bruce had always wanted to groom an Alpha to succeed him, not a disobeying Beta circus kid. 

"No and he's not even your father," Dick had replied, venom hard in his tone, "I hope you realize that. Because he only sees you as his little soldier ready to be sacrificed for his beloved Gotham. That's all you are." 

Jason's face became a carapace obscuring any hurt he may have felt, "No, that's all you f***ing are, 'Golden Boy'." Jason had always had the swift repartee and a payback attitude. 

At that point, Dick should have apologized and mended their relationship. He never had. 

Oh, he would go on to call the potty mouth 'little Wing' or help him out once in the while but, truthfully, looking or spending time with Jason had always been painful and Dick would avoid doing it as much as possible despite Alfred's disapproving looks. He would rather spend his time yelling at Bruce for his recklessness than talking to the one replacing his place by Bruce's side. 

When Jason had died, Dick had known just how much of a terrible brother and son he'd been. He'd vowed to treat family better.

So, when fanboying Tim became Robin after Dick had refused to resume the mantle, Dick had gone out of his way to visit him often and make him laugh. He remembered how much laughter needed to ring in the Manor's walls, how much Bruce also needed it to help him leave the loss of Jason behind. 

Jason coming back had been a miracle Dick hadn't even dared to hope for. The disastrous storm that had taken over Gotham and the corresponding blood spilt was devastating to Bruce and Tim. Still, Dick had been happy with the second chance he had been granted even if Jason disliked him. 

Dick had refused to squander that opportunity. Nor the others that came with Cass and Damian becoming his siblings. 

()

Dick smiled at Damian, "I'm utterly useless, that's true. Could you please do some breakfast for me? I'll replace Alfred at Bruce's side after I have eaten." 

Damian replied, "Since you've pleaded your case so convincingly, Grayson, I'll grant you your favour."

Dick knew he had been right to try and get Damian to do an act of kindness. He could have simply eaten cereals, however, to built unity, you needed interactions between everyone and Damian was the most misunderstood here. He really just wanted to help...

Damian lifted a finger, "You'll have to pay back my favour." 

Okay... So, Damian was an opportunist... Still, he was acting nicely with Dick. That was a good start. 

"What do you want in exchange?" 

Damian's gaze drifted unconsciously upwards, "I need another sparring partner... Until Father feels better."

That hesitation almost broke Dick's heart.

"Grayson! I demand you release me immediately!"

"Don't worry, Dami, I just need another hugging session to get me to breakfast."

"Let me go."

"Mmmm. You're all cute and cuddly. Teddy-bears aren't as comfortable as this."

"Release me or I won't cook your breakfast."

"Sniff. My little brother is growing up to be an excellent blackmailer. I feel so... old."

***

Lex glared at his computer, still incapable of concentrating on the upcoming meetings. Damn Bruce for getting shot in the head. Really, how could he be more infuriating when he was in a coma than with his usually aggravating behaviour? 

"Lex," Mercy called him.

"Yes," a vexed Lex answered.

Mercy placed documents on his desk. 

He raised an eyebrow, "What's this?"

"That's for my raise."

The bald man glanced at the documents and whipped his head at Mercy, "What is it?"

"Proof about your Bruce Wayne's obsession. I documented all my evidence in a priority list. You'll see that your search history information is aggregated as Annexe 1. I expect you to review my evidence today and grant me the promised 20% raise and the same increase in my benefits by tomorrow." Mercy walked out of the room.

Lex glared accusingly at the pile of documents proving he was now obsessed with Bruce. He hated his bodyguard/killer for having chosen today (the day after Bruce got shot) to dump this on him. Mercy really had the worse sense of humor he had ever seen.

He really shouldn't have promised Mercy that raise. 

***

S: BB, how are you today? Have you slept some?

BB: Yes.

S: B is still okay?

BB: Yes.

S: R and RR didn't kill one another?

BB: Didn't. 

S: Nothing major happened?

BB: Patrol.

S: Oh, I did it too. I couldn't sleep. I heard the whispers. 

BB: Which?

S: Joker is back, they say. 

BB: Seen?

S: Nobody saw him. Nobody heard him. They all whisper. 

BB: Not good.

S: I agree. And we didn't find the ones responsible for B's shooting. Promise me to keep safe, okay?

BB: I will. 

S: Good. I'm not opening anyone else's skull tonight. Do you how disgusting that is?

BB: Yes. 

S:...I'm sorry I asked. That was a rhetorical question, BB. You didn't have to answer it directly.

BB: Question. Answer.

S: Yeah, about that... A rhetorical question doesn't need to be answered. It's normally sarcastic. Understand now?

BB: Yeah.

S: Give an example. 

BB: Why?

S: Uh, because I'm teaching stuff and I need to know if you understand.

BB: Why is rhetorical.

S: Oh. In that case, good job, BB!


	14. Gotham's Princeling Part VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are put in place.

Alfred sat at Bruce's side, keeping watch over his young protege as he had done many times over the years. He would have thought it would have gotten better with time, especially since his defenceless charge had grown older and stronger, but, it hadn't.

For someone like Alfred, who had dedicated his life's meaning into the fool's errand that was following Bruce Wayne, every near misses wore his heart and patience away. Alfred had always wanted to cocoon his ward against the harshness of the world but that wish had always been hopeless. The next best thing was providing support for Bruce for as long as he lived.

Nowadays, seeing how the rough first years of Batman hadn't killed off his ward, Alfred had entertained an optimistic vision he would die before Bruce. He was over thirty years older than his ward and had both of their lives been normal, statistics would have confirmed Alfred was to be dead about thirty years before his ward. On that note, instead of reassuring the butler, the thought had distressed him.

One thought especially tortured him: who would take care of Bruce after Alfred's death?

It had been clear to Alfred, ever since he had joined the Wayne household, despite Bruce's brilliance and independence on many levels, he couldn't ever be left on his own for prolonged periods of time. Normally, household staff could be used to cover his inadequacies (especially with how well-off Bruce was, money-wise), but, in Bruce's case, that wouldn't help. Much of his inadequacies were directly linked to his emotional and social ones.

The problem with Bruce was that any court would deem him competent to deal with his own affairs even though his emotional and social immaturity would make him act in a way that was detrimental to his wellbeing.

()

Case in point, after his parents' death, Bruce hadn't wanted to eat, despite nurses', psychiatrists' and social workers' interventions. The boy had refused to eat his favourite food his family's cook had prepared for him. He would ignore each attempt anyone made to make him eat something, anything at all. They were at the point the specialists were talking about drugging him to place IV on him just to feed him when Alfred had used his most effective weapon against Bruce: guilt.

The butler had gone to the kitchen and had made a simple soup. He had carried it over to Bruce's bedroom, knocked, entered and offered it to Bruce. The eight-years-old had all but ignored him. Alfred had placed the soup on the small table and had said, "Master Bruce, I made a soup and I would like your opinion on whether it is edible or not."

Bruce had not moved from his position, yet, Alfred could see the question in his eyes. Even though Alfred had been responsible for teaching him the basic of food manipulation for the past three years, Alfred had never cooked any food for any of Wayne's regular meal because they had a cook paid for that. The only reason Bruce's parents had chosen Alfred to teach him how to cook was that Alfred was the only adult other than his parents and Dr. Thompkins with whom Bruce had ease interacting with.

"Yes, Master Bruce, I made the soup myself. I cut up the onions, carrots and potatoes. I boiled the stock with the vegetable and the ground meat for long enough to ensure everything is well cooked. "

The young boy looked at the soup doubtfully, still not touching it. Bruce glanced at Alfred's feet and hands and Alfred could have felt his hesitation, which was a much better result than any previous attempts to make him eat had garnered.

Alfred upped his guilt-tripping manipulation. "Master Bruce, this is the first time I make a soup dedicated to someone other than myself." Bruce swayed back and forth with his arms tucking his legs against his chest in a gesture the butler interpreted as guilt.

"Do you know why I made this soup, Master Bruce?" Alfred pushed, as he lowered to one knee in front of Bruce, but cautiously not touching him. Bruce shook his head, avoiding all eye contact as he always did, still rolling nervously back and forth on the bed.

"Because I know someone," the butler had continued more softly, eyes observing his audience's reactions, "who needs warmth more than anyone else in this world because their world has recently gone cold. I can't replace the heat that person has lost, Master Bruce, but I can offer some of mine."

Bruce stopped swaying on his bed and swallowed, looking at the soup, obviously ill at ease.

"If that someone dies, Master Bruce, my world would also grow colder," Alfred gently continued. Bruce caressed Alfred's knee in one of his more outgoing show of affection the boy had ever shown in his presence. Alfred let himself caress back the boy's trembling hand, trying to communicate how much the boy meant to him in a way that would not overwhelm him.

When, after a moment, Bruce took back his hand from Alfred's knee, the butler cleared his throat from the emotions he rarely felt and asked, "Can I count on you to eat the soup, Master Bruce?"

The boy nodded and ate the soup without complaints. Alfred had never felt as proud of his accomplishment than at that moment; infiltrating dangerous crime lords' hideout as a secret agent was nothing in comparison to convincing this kid to eat.

That incident had also the unexpected side-effect of ensuring Alfred was now in charge of all food preparation and other tasks associated with Bruce.

The cook was not even upset to get fired. Neither were the maids and other workers. All of them had been all ill at ease with Bruce even before his parents' death. They were all paid off huge sums and had to sign non-disclosure contracts about Bruce Wayne or any Wayne matters.

Over the years, Alfred had to use all of his considerable ingeniosity to make his ward eat and sleep the recommended amount for his age.

()

If Alfred died, what would happen to Bruce?

He would certainly insist in continuing as Batman, but, with his major incapacity to deal with his own wellbeing, that could prove a fatal decision.

The kids, as attached as they are to Bruce, should not have to be stuck taking care of an adult for the rest of his life. Alfred wanted them to seek their own lives and adventures. Moreover, Bruce was not an easy person to take care of.

Again, what would happen to Bruce if Alfred ever died before him?

For several years now, Alfred had been looking into someone to replace him by Bruce's side. It was not easy to find someone absolutely trustworthy who was willing to cook and clean while pushing Bruce to take care of his wellbeing. That was even without talking about the medical knowledge needed to help Bruce with the other side of his work.

In the recent months, Alfred had felt happy Bruce might actually get a spouse who would at least be able to push him to take care of his wellbeing. And, just when Alfred had raised his hope to two points: 1) Bruce would live longer than himself and 2) Bruce would find himself a good mate to take care of himself after Alfred's death, someone shot Bruce in the head.

Saying Alfred was furious was an understatement. Which might explain his dreadful loss of composure with Thomas Elliot and the kids who were already on edge.

Alfred smiled thinking about how grown up the Wayne children were acting.

Jason had seemingly 'obeyed' Alfred's order to go to sleep only to appear an hour later with food and a sleeping prescription for Alfred. The butler had then been the one forced to eat and sleep while Jason looked after Bruce. When Alfred came back refreshed, he pretended not to see Jason suddenly dropping his father's hand from his own clenched one.

Later that same day, Damian had made another breakfast for him (Alfred didn't have the heart to tell him Jason had already made him one) while Dick took over the vigil duty. Cass had replaced him a bit later. Meanwhile, Tim had to attend the Wayne Entreprises emergency meeting.

They were all growing up to be exceptional adults.

***

Tim hated long meetings with the same repetitive arguments circling back and forth. He was therefore content to finally end for the day and escape for the evening, especially if it meant he would find the person who turned this into such a mess...

The first thing he did coming back home was checking on Bruce's status. He opened the door to his mentor's bedroom and looked inside to see Alfred keeping watch over his ward. He looked... old in a way the butler had never quite seemed before except after Jason's death and Bruce's subsequent unravelling.

"Alfred."

"Master Tim, welcome back. Did your meeting go well?" Alfred answered with his usual vigour despite the toll the vigil had obviously taken on him.

Tim bitterly swallowed his more truthful response and instead replied, "It went about as well as I would have expected it to go."

"That bad?" Alfred retorted,

Tim nodded and tiredly passed a hand in his (probably) greasy looking hair, "They want to know who is Damian's other parent. When that person will get involved... How they would get involved... They fear the loss of confidence in the Wayne Entreprises... The corporation's rivals capitalizing on their instability and the shares dropping in value..."

"Do their fears have any merit, Master Tim?" the reliable butler responded.

Tim had pored over researches on business administration since he was young. His parents had always told him, should he present as a Beta, that he should marry an influential Alpha if he wanted to help his family business image since the council and shareholders wanted a strong, solid and aggressive personality to lead them. A Beta was a good supporter, not a leader. Jack Drake had told him the world of politic and business was a world encrusted in conservative values and stilted growth. Public image was everything.

Tim's researches had not exactly denied his father's word of wisdom. However, it wasn't as clear-cut as his father claimed either.

Tim shrugged, "It depends."

For a minute, Tim simply watched Bruce breathe regularly and it soothed some of his day's pain away.

"Are you going to catch them soon, Master Tim?"

Tim shifted weight in his legs but still vowed, "Soon, Alfred. Soon"

"Good," Alfred calmly stated, "Make them pay."

The teenager had always known Alfred was not a pacifist at heart despite his outwardly calm demeanour. Still, it was slightly disturbing to hear him admit it as vocally as he had. Normally, the butler would refrain from divulgating his less empathic side in front of Bruce or the children living in the Manor. Perhaps, Tim thought, it was in order to respect Bruce's wishes concerning never taking a life, no matter Alfred's true opinion on the subject.

"We will," Tim answered with a tired smile, "I better go see Jason."

"Of course, Master Tim, good luck tonight," Alfred replied in his usual well wishes tone.

Tim only stopped in his room to change to more relaxed clothes before heading in the Cave. He wasn't surprised to see Jason touching the old Batsuit he normally used as Batman.

"Jason."

"Replacement, did you modify the Batsuit since the last time I used it?"

"I did," the younger teenager admitted, "I tried to adjust the weight in the suit so it resembled your Red Hood costume in term of weight distribution. Is that a problem?"

Jason answered, "We'll see."

For a moment, Tim simply observed the older teen moving around, preparing "his" things for a Batman appearance.

Tim had gotten more and more comfortable with Jason's presence, still, it was always a bit unnerving to discuss more personal matters with him.

"Jason."

"What."

Tim exhaled, "At the meeting today, the board members insisted to have an Alpha put in charge as CEO to replace Bruce. They will be voting on the subject tomorrow morning."

Jason stopped his movements and frowned at the younger man, "You're telling me this because...?"

Tim had always known his Robin predecessors were sharp and he could see the unhappy dawning comprehension in the other's face about what it meant about the situation.

Tim swallowed somewhat nervously, "Can you do it?"

Jason stared at him, "Are you kidding? I'm the fu****g family's black sheep and you want me to sign Wayne papers?"

Tim tilted his head, "Well, it is clear you have zero interest in managing the Wayne Entreprises. So, basically, you would be the puppet head."

Jason guffawed, "I thought you were supposed to be smart, Replacement. Guess I overestimated your brain. That's a terrible idea."

The younger boy looked confused, "I don't see why it is such a bad idea. In truth, it will mean Bruce retains his power and you don't even need to do speeches or anything except sign some documents once in a while."

Jason shook his head, "Yeah, no. I don't sign documents. I go into a war zone every few months. And I'll probably die in the next few years. What would happen then? You would have established a precedent that the old man needs an Alpha to take care of the Wayne Entreprises. Do you know even how hard Alfred has worked for the old man to be able to be the CEO of his parents' business? I'm not destroying his hard work and I'm not fu****g explaining that to Alfred."

Jason had good points; his lifestyle was even riskier than Bruce's and it was true it was setting a dangerous precedent. However...

"Jason, the board members have the power to remove Bruce and as much as Lucius and I fought to change their opinions, we have not convinced them. It's worst for Bruce if he loses all power over his parents' business than if he has to rely on you to control it."

Jason tilted his head, "Is it? You're the genius. There are other ways to fight them, aren't there?"

Tim acknowledged it, "Yes, but it is risky and those ways include possibilities Bruce loses even more power than being removed as CEO."

Jason grinned, "That's your problem, Replacement, not mine."

Before Tim could continue on the subject, Damian arrived.

"So, you're brave enough to come with us, Demon brat?" Jason asked.

Damian scowled at him, "I'm braver and stronger than either of you. You'll be following my lead if I deem you fit enough."

Jason sent an amused look in Tim's direction. Tim rolled his eyes in a see-what-I-have-to-live-with? exasperation.

Jason put on a serious face to confront the new kid, "Sorry, brat, Batman gets to lord over the Robins. That's the first rule you agreed on when you took the Robin name."

Damian furrowed his eyebrows, "That's not a rule, Todd."

Jason tilted his head in his direction and slipped a malicious grin on, "No? The old man didn't explain it to you when you first appeared? Oh, right, he sucks at communication. That would explain your misunderstanding."

Damian crossed his arms, "You are inventing it."

"Nope," Jason over-pronounced the "p" sound, "Ask Tim."

Damian and Jason turned to Tim, one with resentment, the other with mischievous interest.

Tim's eyes darted from Jason's shit-eating smile to Damian's disdainful look.

"That's actually true," Tim replied with a blank face. Jason gave him a thumb's up behind Damian's back.

"What?"

Tim clarified, "Batman does lord over Robin. It is our family's hierarchy system. Bruce is just really bad at explanations."

Damian still didn't look convinced, "Then, I request a duel to become the next Batman in lieu of Todd."

Tim shook his head, finally getting some well-needed stress relief as he added, "You can't. You need at least three years before you can request duels with Batman for the title." He no longer cared for Jason lording over him as long as Damian had it worse.

A roar of a motorcycle stopped Damian's reply. The three men looked in Nightwing's direction as he parked his motorcycle.

"What are you doing here, Golden Boy?" Jason's face perceptibly darkened, probably remembering his last interaction with Dick. Tim also hated the reminder Dick had told them he would never take someone's costume without his predecessor's express consent, unlike what both Tim and Jason had done with the Robin suit. Tim sensed the bitter aftertaste of resentment in his stomach.

"I may not agree on being Batman," Nightwing answered as he jogged to them, "But, I am helping you catch the person who shot Bruce."

Jason glared at the oldest, using his considerable height to dominate the space while maintaining a stereotypical Alpha stance. After a beat, in which Tim was sure another escalation was in the making, Jason sighed, "Fine. Tonight, we give the shooter a meeting point and time. You and Damian can set it up with the news outlet you want. Cass, Tim and I will patrol the city and set up the traps needed at the place of our choosing."

Smart move, Tim thought, mildly impressed. Even though Jason mostly tried to appear as a reckless brute, he was still brilliant under all of that appearance. Jason seemed to be aware (and as much as Tim hated to admit it) Nightwing was the best detective available to them at this time. Moreover, sending him and Damian on a specific task would reduce the number of damages Damian could do as someone unused to their family structure. Dick couldn't really complain at being ordered around (which he would normally do if Bruce had ordered him as Jason had done) since he was the one offering unsolicited help. Damian would slow down his stubborn complaining if he saw Jason was in fact seen as the pack's leader by all the other members. Finally, this set-up also gave time for Jason to adjust to Batman's suit and battle style without disapproving Dick or Damian in the audience for the awkward transformation.

 

Dick gave a curt nod, "That seems a good plan. Barbs is also trying to find what happened to the security cameras before the shooting. She seems pretty sure this is not human technology. She was trying to find anything special about it"

"Sound," Cass answered from a hiding spot nobody had noticed.

Tim frowned, "What do you mean?"

Cass pressed her hands to her ears, "Sound."

"Sound?" Jason asked, intrigued. She nodded, "Strange sound."

"Anyone else heard a sound? Barbs didn't mention it at all," Dick continued.

Damian hesitated.

"Dami?"

"It was just before the shot."

Dick nodded, "That makes sense. It's probably not on the human normal perceptive range if only Cain and you heard it."

After some debate, they decided to give the information to Oracle while they settled on the location of the coming confrontation. Red Robin and Nightwing sortied to sent their meeting information in the media.

Jason dressed up as Batman with only the cowl missing to complete the strange picture and turned to Robin, "Tim, be honest, what are the chances of this," Tim inferred he meant their team working well together, "working out?"

Tim shrugged, "Considering our team's personalities and the unknown factors about the villains, chances this is going to end badly are at about a 99,08% certainty level." Jason's eyes assessing the younger man with detachment.

"But," Tim added, "Chances this is going to end really badly are only at about 25%."

Jason grinned like a brawler on the eve of an adrenaline-fuelled fight might, "I can live with those odds, Replacement."

He put on the cowl. Something shifted in his posture that Tim couldn't really explain, but Jason 'became' his version of Batman, more serious and grim than usual Red Hood and with the dogged determination to rid the city of its monsters.

"Let's go," he growled into his voice modulator. Tim nodded. Batman and Robin had a city to patrol.

***  
Meanwhile...

"Superman," J'onn calm voice sounded from his comms.

"Listening," Superman answered. 

"I will be visiting Batman tonight. Did you want to come with me?"

Superman blinked. J'onn knew who Batman was? It made sense, he realized, as he remembered they had been getting along even before Bruce started helping the League out as a part-timer. 

"Can I?" Superman's voice betrayed his hope. 

"I do not see why not."

Superman already felt reinvigorated by the possibility of seeing Bruce without getting stabbed by Kryptonite. He could always count on J'onn to save him. He really should have thought of it before; it was such a neat solution to his problems.

"Okay, tell me the time and I'll come with you," Superman answered, already trying to figure out what sort of gift he should bring along. 

J'onn told him and hung up.

Superman focused his hearing to see if there were any recent major catastrophes. Hopefully, he would wrap everything urgent before the visit. 

He'd get to see Bruce. Even if the other was in a coma, at least, Superman would be able to physically confirm Bruce was still alive. 

He couldn't wait for it. His heart felt simultaneously more anxious and less anxious.

***

TD (Tim Drake): It's a go now.

LL(Lex Luthor): Now?

TD: Alfred and the doctor are the only obstacles. 

LL: I see. 

LL: Do I get any heads-up before your pack's Alpha return?

TD: I'll keep you updated.

LL: Okay. Thanks, TD.

TD: Don't blow it.

(Tim Drake has disconnected.)

***

O: Sound?

N: That's what RR and BB said.

O: BB and RR, do you have any other details?

BB: High sound.

RR: High frequency and I noticed it only for a very short moment. 

R: You didn't mention it before BB told us about it, so, I am guessing you didn't really remember it.

RR: I did not forget it.

R: So you say. 

O: Boys, we have mysteries to unravel and criminals to kick into the curb. 

N: Make peace, not war.

R: Really? A hippy's slogan when our goal is to beat up criminals and send them to jail? 

O: Before the interruption, I believe N wanted to elucidate another mystery. Is that right, N? 

N: Yup. I spoke with Agent A and he explained to me why he dislikes TE. 

RH: Finally something interesting...

N: So, B, our charming social butterfly, had difficulties making friends when he was younger.

R: Is that even supposed to surprise us?

S: I would have been horrified if the opposite had been true.

RH: Eh, nothing changed. 

BB: B butterfly?

O: "Social butterfly" is an expression that means someone is good at cultivating friendships. 

BB: Suits B.

RH: ... 

N: ...

R: ...

S: ...

RR: Friendships are weaknesses. Father ought to stop doing it.

O: Uh, N, what was the rest of the story?

N: Right, Agent A told me TE befriended him by getting him started on a strategy game. It seems B had easier time learning rules and goals of a game than interacting with people directly. 

S: Understatement of the year.

N: So, everything was going well until TE's parents were involved in a car crash. TE started distancing himself from B, but, they still played together. Then B's parents died. Agent A tried sending B to the same summer camp as TE to help distract him. One day, TE severally beat B with his bare hands. When the instructors found them, TE was screaming insults and hurting B. B never told Agent A anything about what had set the attack. According to Agent A, B, who had a severe apprehension of connecting with people before the incident, only grew worse in the social department. 

R: That's pretty bad.

S: Is there any part of B's life that's not f***ed up?

O: I can see why Agent A wanted me around for their first meeting. Is it possible TE is X? 

RR: He saved Father. 

S: If he really hated B for some past grudge, would he really save him?

N: BB, you can normally read people. What did you read from him last time you saw him?

BB: Determined man. Strong goals. Sacrifices.

RH: You know, I don't know if it is the right time to point out that villains and heroes are not always that different in terms of descriptions.

N: ...You are not killing anyone as Batman.

RH: F**k you Goldie!

N: I'm serious. 

RH: So am I!

S: Woah there horsies! 

O: N, stop it. RH is a reliable Batman.

R: N, if you had bothered to keep informed about B's last 'absences', you'd know RH knows what he is doing. 

RR: Does Father allow RH to kill when he is not Batman? 

N: Absolutely not! It goes against his principles!

R: No. 

RH: Meh.

S: It's a convoluted 'kinda' no?

O: To simplify it for everyone's ease of comprehension: no killing! 

BB: No killing. Ever again.

RH: Yeah, killing doesn't send that big of a message anyway. 

RR: I only have to make sure nobody dies?

RH: Right. Oh, and cutting someone's arm off might make them die from blood loss. Better to cut their fingers off. 

O: Jason, I know you are joking but RR does not. You are also supposed to be some sort of (unbalanced) role model as 'Batman'.

R: Name!

RH: Fine. Killing is kinda bad (or badass depending on the person) and permanently injuring is better but also kinda of bad (according to B). When the old man gets out of his coma, he might kick you out if you do either. He might also kick you out for some other reason. How's that for a summary?

N: RR, it's not only because of B's opinion you should not be killing or permanently injuring people. It is a matter of principles. Our moral high ground gets really slippy as soon as we start killing or permanently injuring people. We have to be sure not to become what we are fighting. 

S: Translation: we are the good guys. We forever live with handicaps to prove we are stronger and cooler than the evil dudes!

O: And women.

S: You get what I mean. 

BB: We are good. Stay good. 

R: That's actually my favourite summary yet. 

RR: Even if they kill Father? Or someone else?

S: Heavy melodrama incoming...

N: He's fine. Agent A is watching over him.

RR: Revenge is a filial obligation.

RH: As interesting as this 'son' bullsh*t is, I've had my quota. See you. Or not.

Red Hood has disconnected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this Gotham's princeling arc is long. Don't worry, the plot is slowly moving forward.


	15. Gotham's Princeling Part VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex, Clark and J'onn visit Bruce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit late...

"Good evening, Master Lex," the ever imperturbable Alfred greeted the bald businessman.

"Alfred, may I see Bruce?" Lex tried to hide his relief Alfred was the one opening the door.

"Certainly, Master Lex, however, please note Dr. Thompkins is presently doing some tests on him," Alfred remarked as he closed the door.

"Do you trust him?"

Alfred lifted one eyebrow, "As a matter of fact, Master Lex, I do trust her."

Lex followed the man upstairs to Bruce's bedroom. He tried to avoid getting tangled up in the details of his last visit to that room.

Alfred opened the door and gestured Lex in. The bald man found an older lady, probably around Alfred's age if the grey in her hair was anything to go by, using a stethoscope on Bruce. His gaze glided over the stranger to stop over the comatose man's strangely relaxed face. Something buried deep in Lex's chest tugged, something he preferred not to examine too closely. Bruce looked so at peace it almost was sacrilegious to wake him up. Lex had to force himself to focus solely on the doctor and Alfred.

"Who are you?" the older lady flatly said as she turned towards him with a deep frown.

"Lex Luthor," the man replied with great pride, even though he was slightly annoyed she didn't recognize him on the spot.

The lady in the white coat looked at him with a rather unimpressed pout, "That's what I thought." She turned her severe eyes in Alfred's direction, "Why did you let him in, Alfred?"

She knew he was an Alpha billionaire, yet, she asked the question directly to the family's Beta butler? Lex quickly categorized her as an intimate family friend. It was highly likely she was Batman's doctor (and, yes, it was Lex's conclusion Batman had a doctor, not just an Alfred since some of Bruce's numerous wounds must have been close to deadly without a professional's involvement).

"He wanted to see Master Bruce, Dr. Thompkins."

She glared at him, "Company or no company, don't call me Dr. Thompkins, Alfred."

"Of course, Dr. Thompkins," Alfred replied.

Lex raised one eyebrow at the polite reply. He didn't notice Dr. Thompkins shifting her glare back to him.

"Since Alfred brought you up, it seems the rumours of your acquaintance with Bruce were not exaggerated. How do you know him that well?"

Lex ignored her impertinent behaviour and instead asked his own question, "Actually, Dr. Thompkins, you may be of help to me tonight concerning his health."

The no-nonsense doctor glared at him suspiciously for a long moment, "Do you have any information to provide me with?"

"Is it possible to operate on his head now?"

Lex noticed Alfred blinking while the doctor seemed shocked and angry, "He just got shot in the head. His head is extremely fragile now that it is slowly healing. Of course, it's a terrible idea!"

"Even to save his life?"

Alfred was the first one to respond from the shock of the question, "What might you mean by that, Master Lex?"

Lex glanced at Bruce, "I mean, it is highly likely someone implanted something in his brain."

"Why would you think that, Master Lex?"

Lex paced on the carpet, "Simple. I find coincidences suspect in the first place. He was shot in his head with a small calibre gun. If the shooter wanted to kill him, they only needed to use a more powerful gun or they could have made a better shot. If the shooter was an amateur, he would have gotten caught immediately. Bruce was shot in front of one of this world's most famous neurosurgeons and there was an operating table within five minutes of the accident. What if the purpose of the shooter was not to kill Bruce, but, rather to implant something in his brain for use later on?"

The skeptical doctor answered, "Why would anyone want to implant something in his brain?"

Lex glanced at Alfred, looking to see if they could implicate Batman in the matter. The older man nodded.

"He's Batman, part of the Justice League, and one of the most powerful billionaires on Earth. Of course, there are several reasons to want to have some measure of control over him or get information from him." Lex didn't tell them his other hypothesis, the one where Bruce Wayne was a hostage to control the powerful people around him.

Dr. Thompkins's eyes widened, "You know he's Batman?"

"He does," Alfred replied, "Master Lex, is this a conjecture or do you have a proof someone implanted something in Bruce's brain?"

Lex shook his head, "It is conjecture, Alfred, but, if a highly dangerous villain implanted something in his brain, his life may be yet at risk even if the present mortal danger has been avoided. We need to find what was implanted before this person's plan is enacted."

"What exactly do you think may have been implanted?" the surly woman frowned at Lex.

The businessman frowned back, "Possibly alien technology if Tim's talk about this villain is true."

The doctor arched an eyebrow, "If there is something, can it be found with human technology? I'm not cutting up Thomas's kid's brain to seek something that may be too small for us to see or that may have been diluted in his bloodstream. How do you propose we verify your claims?"

This was going better than Lex had thought. It was clear the woman was very used to extraordinary stories. It had to be Batman's personal doctor, especially if she called him "Thomas's kid".

"What sort of tests could you take of his brain? We could eliminate some possibilities that way."

"Some tests have already been done by Dr. Elliot. We could parse through it," the lady responded, undaunted.

Lex looked at Alfred, "If the goal of Bruce's shooting was to implant something in his brain, the doctor may well be the shooter's accomplice. It would be important to readminister all the tests done and compare the results."

Alfred glanced at Dr. Thompkins and she nodded in agreement though she still seemed wary of Lex's involvement.

"Still," Alfred slowly enunciated, "if the villain in question has really implanted a higher alien technology in his brains, it is highly likely we would not find traces of it with standard human tests."

"That's why we need to divest our resources on the matter. Opening Bruce's brain for a second examination may be necessary at one point. We also have to get ahold of a piece of the alien technology to get a better chance to find ways to remove it from his brain."

Dr. Thompkins shook her head, "Operating on his brain will be risky for some time. Are you sure there is a conspiracy here?"

Lex glared at her, "You may be a doctor, but I am somewhat of an expert in conspiracies. There are too many unexplainable coincidences in Bruce's shooting. If I were the person orchestrating this, his shooting would certainly be part of a bigger plan."

Alfred nodded, "It did seem odd, Master Lex. Dr. Thompkins, did you have any tests to administer to Master Bruce tonight?"

She shook her head, "No."

"How is he doing?" Lex asked, trying to keep his voice unaffected and even.

She snorted, "For him getting shot in the head? Great. He's stable and recuperating and the fact he is in a coma means he can't force himself to work before he is ready. He just needs to wake up from his coma. That might take a while, but seeing who he is, I'm confident he will eventually wake up and try to single-handedly fix his own brain. Not that I'm going to let him do that." Lex was now about 100% she was Batman's personal doctor; why else would she dismiss his brain injury as "great".

"His brain is not too injured?" Lex pressed, now looking at the prone figure on the bed.

Dr. Thompkins answered, "The area affected is small. It is highly likely the rest of his brain will be able to compensate for it although he will probably need some help to speak normally again. His basics senses don't seem affected and neither does his memory centre nor his sense of balance. However, complications may have set in, so, we are keeping a close eye to his status." Lex knew she had finished her speech by the way she was gathering her supplies.

"Dr. Thompkins, may I accompany you to the door?" the butler offered. Her slightly amused corner of a lip lifting up was Lex's clue she understood some sort of underhanded message.

"Alfred, you always had better bedside manners than me."With that wry statement, both of them walked out, leaving Lex alone with Bruce.

He glanced at the closed door before stepping closer to Bruce. He really didn't look like Batman nor did he look like a playboy from this angle. It made him think of the other time he had seen him in this room, of the boy terrorized by the loss of his family and of monsters hunting this forsaken land.

Lex sat in the chair beside him and simply stared at him, taking in the gauze over his forehead: a scar that was Bruce's burden to take, not Batman's, a scar on his forehead. Would Bruce hide it behind his hair? Or would he show it without care because it didn't matter? That the scar was so blatantly done in his Bruce Wayne's identity nobody would find it suspect if he wore it around like the airhead he was supposed to be?

As Lex leaned forward, he wasn't sure which option he would prefer... It was hard not to want to destroy Gotham for how it affected the black-haired man.

***

The dark was unnerving, especially since you couldn't see when something or someone would attack you.

"Bruce, monsters don't exist," Bruce's father had often claimed exasperatedly.

Bruce wasn't so sure.

He'd seen enough of his father's work to know something or someone was attacking people. Each time he went to his father's clinic, there were new patients being brought in, new wounds that bled on the clinic's red-stained floors, new groans and screams that resounded in a kid's mind far longer than they lasted in real life.

He'd hear the paramedics or nurses yelling coded names concerning their patients. It was too loud. Like the Manor's creaking stairs at night...

Bruce hated the hallways filled with victims but, he loved his father's operating room. Well, without the strong overhead lights, of course. He'd try to sleep with the lights on, but, he felt it burn his eyes, stopping any possibilities of even a fitful sleep.

Point was, as young as Bruce was, he knew that monsters had to exist. That the monsters would attack him at bedtime because his parents weren't there to protect him: he was at his most vulnerable. Yet, each night, his parents would repeat monsters didn't exist. That he was simply scared of the dark, loneliness and wind.

Bruce didn't particularly hate the dark; it didn't hurt as much his eyes as the sun and the luminous globes that illuminated the Manor. He didn't hate being alone during the day; it was easier to navigate and he couldn't disappoint anyone. Bruce didn't hate the wind; he'd calculate its velocity for the purpose of analyzing the science of kite-flying and weathercock's movement. Bruce only disliked the dark, being alone and wind when it was used as concealment of the monsters' approach.

Bruce sat in his bed with his back to the bedboard and looked around waiting for the monsters' inevitable attack. He had a flashpoint in one hand.

He shivered, from fear or cold he couldn't tell.

"Bruce, come and ask for my help if you can't sleep, okay darling?" his mother had told him before bedtime.

He couldn't.

His words were not the sort of things he could use for anything important. They clung to his throat like molasses on ice cubes and, when pronounced, became incoherent garbles that couldn't possibly correspond to the fluid and comprehensive thoughts he had gathered in his mind. Making sense to "normal" people with his words was even more insurmountable than fighting the monsters prowling in the dark, all patiently waiting for their chances to hurt him.

Bruce held himself in his arms, feeling the tremors that only went away in his sleep. He could feel the moisture accumulating in his eyes.

Blessed are You our God, who casts sleep upon my eyes and slumber upon my eyelids...

The stairs creaked, then, a sepulchral silence.

Bruce swallowed and turned his lamp in his door's direction.

A soft thud at the window forced him to glance in that direction.

They were finally here.

They'd eat him; lightly toast him in the oven and cut him with knives and teeth.

Or they might just tear him apart like the screaming man with no legs Bruce had seen in his father's clinics.

Bruce continued reciting his mother's prayer in his mind to keep from going mad.

May You lay me down to sleep in peace and raise me up in peace...

Some sort of cracking noise was heard in the window.

And Bruce was sure the monsters were there.

***

Superman was relieved to see J'onn arriving at their meeting spot.

"J'onn!"

The Martian gave him a short nod, "Superman."

"Please call me Clark when I am dressed as a civilian," he said as he offered him his hand. The detective gave him a solid handshake, "How are you... Clark?"

Clark blinked at the stoic alien and released his hand from the suddenly deathly grip he had taken his colleague's hand. The reporter swallowed, already beating himself for his nervousness that would have destroyed about anyone's hand, "We should get going." The man in his detective green coat and hat that screamed classic noir detective antihero gave him a discerning glance. Clark cleared his throat and strode towards the Wayne Manor.

Clark waited until his colleague had caught up to him before ringing the door. The reporter's hand played with his other arm's sleeve until the door made way for the appearance of a dignified and rigid looking man. Clark opened his mouth, however, no words of explanation could come to mind. Thankfully, J'onn spoke, "Mr. Pennyworth, we've heard what happened to Bruce. I'm sorry to trouble you so shortly after his injury. Is it possible to see him?"

"Master Kent and Master J'onn," The butler replied, "Of course, you can come in. I trust no reporters stopped you on your way in?"

"No," J'onn answered, "We avoided them entirely. Our presence here may be difficult to explain in a satisfactory manner to investigative minds."

"That's good," the butler waved them in, "I would, however, ask you wait in the living room. Someone else is presently visiting Master Bruce. I believe they are almost done." J'onn and Clark nodded and let the older man guide them to the place Clark had previously spoken with Bruce and Oliver on one occasion and Bruce and Dick on the other. The painting of Bruce's parents yet again grabbed his attention and he was perusing both of their images in hopes of discovering who Bruce took after.

"Would you like some tea?" The butler startled Clark.

"Uh?"

"Mr. Pennyworth, please do not trouble yourself over her needs," J'onn answered much more coherently.

The butler nodded and headed upstairs. Clark could hear him his footsteps to Bruce's bedroom, the soft knock on the door and Lex's answer. Lex? Lex was here?

Clark glanced at the unfolding scene upstairs in which Lex told Mr. Pennyworth he would check something and he'd contact him back. The butler agreed and followed him downstairs.

"Clark," J'onn soft voice told him.

Clark then noticed he was standing and his body was in the entrance's direction. He gulped and sat obediently sat down, fingers more fidgety than before he had learned of Lex's presence.

The butler and Lex went to the door. Clark could see them exchange a look. Then, Lex walked outside and the stoic butler came back to their meeting.

"If you would follow me." They did.

Bruce's bedroom was vast and magnificent, however, the only thing Clark could look at was the man surrounded by machines connected to him in some ways or other.

"Is he... okay?" Clark asked.

The butler gave a curt nod, "He will be, Master Kent, when he wakes from the coma."

For a moment, nobody says anything.

"I will take my leave. If something in his condition changes, please let me know." With that, the butler walked outside and closed the door.

J'onn resumed his alien form and came forward to stand beside Bruce.

After a moment, Clark followed him and sat at Bruce's bedside. Hesitantly, he took the man's hand in his own and he recoiled, still keeping the man's calloused hand in his own, "He's in pain."

J'onn brought his hand to Bruce's head and it seemed to produce some sort of energy.

***

"Bruce?"

The boy blinked his tears away and looked at his mother's worried face.

"What's wrong, Bruce?" she used her tenderest tone.

Immediately, he felt reassured and his trembling completely stopped.

"Monsters."

She softly gazed at him, assessing his reactions, and rose her arms in the air, "May I touch you?"

Bruce gave a nod and she slowly enlaced him in her warmth, "Shhh. You're safe, darling. You're safe."

He stared at the window, worried the monsters would just invade when his mother inevitably retreats from his room. He just held on to his mother to keep her from leaving.

"Do you want me to sing or tell you a story, Bruce?"

He focused on his mother's vibrations, "Story."

She nodded and released him as soon as she felt him stilling in her arms.

She sat beside him and gently started, "A long time ago, when the Sun burned blue and the Moon was only ever round, the world was at peace. 

However, the Moon and Sun grew lonely and they decided to bring life into their lives. The Moon named some of her moonlight beams and they became alive. The Sun named some of his beams and they became alive. 

One of the Moon's moonlight beams was named the Moonlight Warrior. She was fearless and commanding and well loved by her mother, the Moon. Unfortunately, she was also of the belligerent kind, fighting unneeded battles with other moonlight and sunlight beams. The Sun unhappily complained to his equal, the Moon. Always, she told him the Moonlight Warrior was as she was supposed to be and beauty came of her independence.

At the end of a night, the Moonlight Warrior stayed longer than she should have and she saw a sunlight beam she had not ever seen beforehand. He, the proud Sunlight Priest, was made of the softest and palest light she had ever seen. His kind smile melted away her fierce heart. Still fluttering from the meeting, the Moonlight Warrior spent many a night thinking about the Sunlight Priest's gentle demeanour. Finally, she consulted her mother, the Moon, on the subject and the Moon told her she was obsessed and had to change her scenery." 

Bruce's eyelids had grown so heavy they fell close.

"The Moonlight Warrior followed her mother's advice and went on a quest to think of something else than the Sunlight Priest. She went on a journey on Earth and somewhere, along the way, she learned what she felt deep in the recesses of her heart was called "love"...."

Bruce couldn't hear her calm voice anymore.

***

"This should have helped," J'onn finally said after a moment of delicately pressing his fingers on Bruce's forehead. 

Clark looked at the sleeping face and couldn't see any changes. Still, he wanted to believe the Martian, "What did you do?"

"I helped his mind counter a painful memory by summoning a peaceful one."

Clark's hands clamped more securely over Bruce's hand. He sensed the quiet warmth and, strangely enough, it reassured him. After a drawn-up moment, he noticed the Martian's erringly wise gaze was directed his way. 

"What is it, J'onn?"

"You have an empathic link with him."

"A... what?" Clark exclaimed, still watching Bruce's sleeping form.

"An empathic link. A primitive one, but one nonetheless. You are able to sense his most basic emotions. Pain. Pleasure. Or when his life is endangered."

Clark blinked and looked at the cautious eyes watching him, "It is an empathic link? Not a telepathic one?"

"It is not. You do not seem to sense his thoughts, only his emotions. May I ask whether this is a usual Kryptonian ability?"

Clark's mouth opened and closed. He exhaled and answered, "It is not really clear. From what I researched, Kryptonian's bonding sometimes ended creating mind links. Since the Kryptonians were so focused on science, they hated discussing things they couldn't really explain. It is hard to find much on the subject."

J'onn nodded, "I may be able to help you close the link."

Clark tilted his head, "Why?"

J'onn gazed at him, seemingly not understanding the question for a long time. Then, he seemed to realized Clark was being serious. 

"He is Batman. He feels pain often. You are not used to that level of pain. If your empathic link becomes stronger, it may overwhelm you."

Clark's eyes widened and he turned back to look at Bruce's face. He hadn't thought it about the practical implications of his newfound ability. He was in trouble.

***

O: How did it go?

N: Well, it worked, so there's that.

R: That's not what I heard.

RH: For once in your life, you didn't disappoint me, Goldie. 

O: We've received so many terrorized civilians' account of Joker's appearance the police will be up all night. Did you have to be that dramatic?

N: My default setting is dramatic.

Spoiler has connected.

S: Cool disguise! 

N: It's the last time I'm ever pretending to be Joker.

R: Did you have to level down an entire building?

RR: Tch. You do not have the flair for attracting attention.

N: Play nice, RR. To answer R's preoccupation, the building was Bruce's. It was brought under another name and it was to be used for Batman activities as needed. Nobody was hurt. We made sure to search it through. We were very careful.

R: How many dynamite did you put? That was too much.

RH: Eh, it made a good firework, though, as the explosive's expert, I would have done a better job.

N: That's what he said.

S: I've seen the pictures. The bloody corpses were a nice touch. Did you ever think of making a zombie movie? We'd make money out of it.

O: N, what did RR do while you were threatening the poor reporter?

N: He was the one who secured the site for the explosion and he also threw the 'fake' corpses on the ground with fake blood. 

RR: This is ridiculous.

N: You had fun, admit it.

S: Didn't you also?

N: The planning of the 'prank' was fun, but playing Joker? That was chilling. Not doing that again.

O: How did team setup work?

R: It went without a hitch.

BB: Traps. Eyes. Good.

RH: You just had the best leader.

N: R is really great.

O: He always knows what he is doing, contrary to someone else I know.

N: Was that a stab at me?

RR: You almost levelled down a street block with your pitiful knowledge of explosives. 

R: Which makes him your perfect partner. Poor control and dangerous explosives: it is the perfect recipe for lowering crime by decimating its population. Genius.

RH: Kind of have to agree with you there. We should just blow Arkham Asylum with the villains still inside. 

O: You just have a grudge against Arkham because it can't keep villains in.

RH: Why the hell is it still up? If it worked, villains would have destroyed it. They are keeping it because it is perfect for their escape plans.

S: Conspiracy theory time!


	16. Gotham's Princeling Part VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wayne Entreprises Board meeting happens. Lex plans. Superman plans. Bruce sleeps.

Tim reviewed all his documents, organizing them one last time before breakfast. He had the nagging doubt his chosen technique would not convince the Board members, still, Jason had told him he needed to fight to keep Bruce's independence, not cooperate to appoint a 'guardian'. There wasn't a lot of precedences. Since the elaborate research he had done when he was young about being a business owner that was not Alpha, Tim had seen things shift about, controversy at the bottom of those instances. On the other hand, it was not in anyone's best interests if a public fight between Wayne Entreprises and the Wayne family erupted.

Tim closed his suitcase and sighed. Jason had listened to his advice yesterday concerning Batman's role; it might be a good idea to follow Jason's advice in business even though the formerly dead Robin hated getting involved in it. Trust had to go both ways.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror and he wanted to smash the weak boy's face reflected in it. Even with his most impressive suit-that helped him age up a few years-, the boy in the reflection seemed small and vulnerable, especially with the black underlying his eyes and the wariness in his eyes. He frowned at the image; he yearned for the ridiculously bright Robin suit (why had Bruce even let Dick chose such a thing, was still very much one of Tim's long-standing mystery) to help fight crime, not the two-piece charcoal suit assorted with the pale shirt and completed with the tie that always strangled him too much. Tim knew he had to keep his cool; that was always his responsibility. Still, his skin itched at the restricting material in a way he was not used to. He had rarely not been dressed with this kind of clothes at least weekly going back as far back as he could remember. His father had even called it social armour, which, ironically, could not protect him from the boomerang that killed him.

Tim had become Robin because Gotham needed Batman's crusade and Batman needed hope to hang on to. Yet, despite it all, the teenager always felt as if his light was dimmed by his lack of lightness and transparency. No matter how much he tried, he wasn't a genius acrobat like Dick nor a natural brawler like Jason. And, if Tim had believed in a higher presence or a destiny, it would be clear he was not supposed to be here. He had no claim to anything from Batman or Bruce except his pity. The man had reluctantly taken him in because of his Batman association and the higher risks associated with Tim being sent to a foster home.

Tim's third alarm shrilly reminded him he should head down to breakfast. No more hesitations, he mentally told his reflection, I can do this.

The teenager walked into the kitchen to see a steaming mug of coffee waiting for him in Alfred's hands, "Good morning, Master Tim."

"Good morning, Alfred," he answered as he gently took the coffee from the older man's hand.

Alfred's pragmatic eyes scanned him, probably looking to see if he was prepared for today's trial. His stern eyes furrowed as he took in Tim's face (probably noting his paleness).

"Did you catch any sleep in the past twelve hours, Master Tim?"

Tim hadn't. After his Robin expedition in the evening and patrol, he had returned to study for today's meeting. All the same, the teenager didn't want to worry Alfred, especially now. "I did, Alfred."

Alfred's slight raising of his left eyebrow univocally communicated his disbelief. "I suggest you take a nap after the meeting, Master Tim."

The teenager gave a slight nod, not wanting to discuss the possible ramifications of his meeting.

Alfred guided him to the table and Tim knew it was a special occasion once he saw Alfred heaping the food on his plate, "If I may be so bold, Master Tim, as to present at breakfast some documents that may ease your position today."

Tim cocked his head at the documents slid over to him in a legal size envelope. He slowly unlatched the unsealed flap. He carefully read through all the pages, the legal language now making perfect sense although his mind wouldn't compute with its meaning. He looked up at Alfred's gaze and opened his mouth, "Does... Is that...?"

Unruffled, Alfred simply nodded and explained, "As you can see, Master Bruce liked to be ready for any circumstances. As explained in the document, he wanted me and you, jointly and severally, to be his power of attorneys to manage all of Wayne Entreprises. I have included Dr. Thompkins's letter confirming Bruce Thomas Wayne is presently incapable of making any financial decision and my own signed renunciation of the position. In it, I confirm my belief you are more than able to manage yourself the Wayne Entreprises as its CEO."

Tim glanced back at the documents, uncertain whether to feel thrilled both Alfred and Bruce had enormous faith in him or scared to betray it. "I... don't know what to say. I don't deserve this."

"To the contrary, Master Tim, nobody deserves it more. No one has worked as much or as ardently on preserving and improving Wayne Entreprises."

Tim's hand tightened on the documents.

"It may be a heavy burden to bear, Master Tim, however, I have complete confidence you are fully capable of handling it. If you need help, do not hesitate to ask for it; I have always assisted Master Bruce's foray into his business and I know something of Wayne Entreprises's management," The proud sparkle in Alfred's eyes reassured Tim this was really what Bruce and Alfred had intended to do. The invisible pressure on Tim's shoulder ebbed away.

All in all, Tim spent so much time going over the documents, he had barely had time to eat two pancakes before heading to the meeting.

***

Lex critically inspected his surrounding before typing in the number in one of the 'special' untraceable phones.

After five rings, he went to voicemail. He tried to rein in his impatience as he ordered, "Miss Kyle, I know you are there. Answer the phone."

He heard a clang as someone picked up the phone with a yawny, "Hello?"

Ever since he was young, Alexander Luthor had worked hard to be one of the most renown businessmen on the planet. He certainly didn't have time to play pretend with a slippery thief.

"Miss Kyle, I have a mission for you."

There was a slight pause and a bored voice responded, "No can do, baldy. James Bond gets to decline missions, so can I." Lex had to commend the speed with which she gathered her wits after her secret identity was so obviously blown away to one of the most powerful (and dangerous) men on Earth.

Lex massaged his forehead, "You won't refuse this one."

"Oh?" Catwoman responded with a slightly amused tone.

"And you will do it for free."

He could practically hear her disbelief on the line.

"Really? That is such a fascinating story. Do tell me more."

"Someone might have misplaced alien technology in your... friend's head."

She had to ponder his words over because she didn't hang up nor did she talk for a few moments.

"Alien technology isn't quite my area of expertise..."

He wanted to roll his eyes, "I am aware it's more of mine. Unfortunately, we don't know anything about the technology in question or how it works."

"And you need my help for what, exactly?" she amiably enough responded.

He cleared his throat, "We need someone to steal part of the technology so we can study it more closely."

"You know where to find this technology?"

"It is possible and plausible it is hidden at the same place your friend was... infected. If not, it may be hidden in another part of the person's property."

"But you're unsure where it is at the present or even if it exists?" she inquired.

He frowned at his phone, "You're the expert in finding hidden things."

"You want me to steal some unknown technology of which you don't know the dangers, the appearance nor the location and you think I'll do it for free?"

"You did mention you were friends with a certain mutual acquaintance," he started.

"But business is business. I know how to draw the line... Lexy." The businessman hated the way she singsonged his name. It might have been sexy if it wasn't such a transparent move to either destabilize him to get her way or to get her way.

"I must applaud your professionalism in setting up straight your priorities. Good night Miss Kyle," Lex hung up with satisfaction. He knew enough about people to know she would try to steal from Thomas Elliott with the bait he had provided her. She had to care about Bruce a lot if she even went out of her way to warn Lex she would crucify him if he harmed Bruce.

Technically, Lex wasn't a supervillain any longer. However, it didn't mean he couldn't manipulate people for "the greater good". He felt so good at getting back in action. It was almost as if his brain's 'muscles' needed the stretch this provided. Plus, he got two birds with one stone; getting the unknown dangerous alien technology to study and having the satisfaction of helping out Bruce (which will help him be seen as more trustworthy in the long run).

Lex smirked and thought it felt so amazing to be 'good'. He really should have switched sides before. 

Although, if someone really did have Bruce shot in the head to put alien technology in it, well, they better beware, because Lex wasn't one to let those kinds of things go without retribution. 

***

They were fighting, Bruce knew.

He had long realized the pattern associated with their fights. It was the voice, the body language and something more... implacable.

Mother and father would always go upstairs to fight and would always close the door. It was the polite and discreet way to do it, Bruce guessed.

Neither knew Bruce had the repertoire of all of the crawling spaces in the house and he knew how to listen (or eavesdrop some might say) any conversation they could have in the rooms they always chose.

"...have to, Thomas," his mother was saying.

Bruce pressed his ear against the wall.

"We already had this discussion, Martha. We can't take him to see a specialist."

They were fighting over Bruce, again.

"Do you wish our son to grow up like a hermit? He needs specialists' help and he needs to be integrated into society." The sharpness in her tone was not something Bruce ever heard in her voice other than in fights with her husband.

"We can't, Martha! You know why."

Bruce swallowed. He hated this bit.

"He needs help socializing, Thomas. He can't just rely on us and Alfred as social interactions in life. That's not healthy."

"We're already risking enough with the staff and tutors. We can't see a professional. By requesting their services, we are permitting them to examine Bruce. We both know what will happen if they do..."

Bruce's mother voice rose, "Maybe you are worried about nothing, Thomas. "

The briskness in Thomas's tone was quite upsetting for his son, "I'm worried for nothing!?! You weren't there, Martha; you didn't see Philipp when he came back from his horrible camp. You didn't see how traumatized he was... My three weeks were nothing compared to his "more advanced" one."

"Times are changing. The world is not the same as the one that you grew up as a kid. People criticize more and more the "toughness", "peacemakers" and "compliant" camps. Maybe we can even convince the specialist not to send Bruce to a camp. I certainly wasn't sent to the peacemaker one even though I clearly was a 'defective' Beta."

"You were also your mother's favourite before you made the 'mistake' of marrying me! I don't even know how many people she had to bribe in order to keep you from it. Besides, Bruce's case is much worse than yours ever was..."

Bruce briefly closed his eyes. He was well aware he was the worse child a parent could ever have.

"Don't you dare say he's wrong to be as he is!"

"What do you take me for? I think he's perfect but..."

"BUT!?!"

Bruce's father mellowed his tone, "The world is wrong for him, Martha. It's not ready to accept him."

A silence greeted his statement.

"Just because he is an Omega?"

Bruce heard a loud sigh.

"In a way, I don't think that that is the real problem. It certainly doesn't help he is an extremely wealthy rare male Omega. He... just doesn't fit, Martha. He may read Gray Ghost comics, however, he also reads and understands highly complicated books that have stumped highly educated adults. His last tutor tried to teach him about the force of gravity and Bruce insisted it was not a force but a curving spacetime. He had grasped the basics of Einstein's theory of General Relativity, however, we can't just let him just contradict people like that. Bruce is undeniably a genius, Martha, and a stubborn one at that..."

Bruce heard someone pacing in the room before his father continued, "He also doesn't know how to interact or even speak with people. He has to do everything at his own pace. He cares too much for everyone... Last week, when he stumbled on Cassie's crying, he ran to Alfred for help and wouldn't stop thinking for days about a girl(who was always ignoring him)'s problem..."

"Face it, Martha, he would have always been a social abnormality, an incongruent piece that doesn't fit in our world's configuration: he's too nice, too smart and, worse still, too stubborn to bend. One day, maybe, the world might evolve enough to appreciate, like we do, the marvel that he is. In the meantime, I say we protect him tooth and nail from it. They will break him, Martha, as they always break what doesn't fit in their plan. I don't want him to be forced into the fold."

Bruce covered his mouth with his hands, not wanting his parents to hear any noise he might inadvertently make.

He had always known he was didn't fit; he just didn't know how much his parents had to bear because he couldn't be 'normal'. How he didn't like people to touch him. How he didn't like to talk. 

He was his parents' burden.

His mother finally responded, "We can't just lock him up and hope the world changes, Thomas! Even if we don't take him to a specialist, I insist he has to make friends. It's abuse if we don't encourage him to create other relationships. He can't just be emotionally invested in his parents and his butler. He should be able to live his life."

The pacing stopped. "It's a risk, Martha. And it's not as if we haven't tried..."

"We decided he had to be homeschooled, Thomas. He has to make at least one friend his age..."

There was another stretch of silence before a louder sigh was heard, "You win. We'll make sure he can befriend someone his age, someone who would have too much interest, financial or otherwise, to divulge any information about him to the press or the authorities."

"Perfect."

Bruce heard their steps to the door. He knew they always kissed after a fight to show they had no lingering bad feelings. This time, he didn't really hear anything indicating it was happening. However, there was a brief pause before the door was swung open and they walked out of the room.

For the longest time, Bruce hugged himself in the dark crawlway, wishing he wasn't such a burden for his parents, hoping he'd never be anyone's burden ever again.

***

"I, Tim Drake, am Bruce Thomas Wayne's power of attorney concerning the Wayne Entreprises. I've already submitted copies of the documents granting me those powers. As such, today, I will represent him as the CEO of Wayne Entreprises in this meeting. Please keep that in mind when you address me," the teenager declared to the room full of upset board members. Lucius gave him a small nod in approval of his opening speech.

"You may represent him as CEO, but I think we all agree he can't hold on to that position now that we know he has a biological child from who knows where. It is unseemly," Mr. White replied with his usual stony expression.

"A disgrace," someone piped in.

"He shouldn't even have been put as the CEO. It's time to rectify the mistake before it brings our stocks down too much," the burly Mrs. Lucy Langlin enunciated.

Tim didn't even blink at the reply. He knew his position was slippery at best, "Have you really weighed the risks of both options adequately?"

"Options?"

"The choice is obvious!"

"An unmated Omega with a child in charge of Wayne Entreprises is a disgrace!"

Aletha Brown stared at him with the same collected manner that made her a reliable member. She steepled her hands, "Please elaborate your position, Mr. Drake."

Tim slowly stood up and looked at everyone in the room in turn, "You seem to think to put a new CEO will grant your wishes of a good and stable economy. Nonetheless, the Wayne household is also a power brand. By distancing yourself from the family, you risk upsetting the public's perceptive of the corporation. Knowing Gotham, it wouldn't be strange for rumours to start circulating around accusing you as a whole of dragging Bruce Wayne in destitution by taking away any of his control in his family's corporation.."

"That's not true! He will still receive his shareholder's income," interrupted Mr. White, the coughing menace.

"That might be true, Mr. White, however by removing all of his immediate control in his family's business, you are also effectively taking away part of his legacy. Bruce Wayne was set to inherit two important part of the Wayne legacy at his parents' death: the Wayne Entreprises and the Wayne Manor. Before his majority, his guardian was the one protecting both aspects of his life. After his majority, Bruce legally received his inheritance. Wayne Entreprises is not just a corporation for you to control; it's his ancestors' life and blood and his parents' legacy. You have the power to remove him as CEO, especially with the public knowledge of his biological son's existence despite the fact he does not have a mate, and I don't deny you could do it. Nonetheless, is it really a wise move to do? You will be openly opposed by the Wayne household. In court, your case would stand but, the public's opinion is a whole other game. It would undoubtedly lower your stocks' values and embroiled you in a scandal none of you really want your name to be associated with. I assure you, removing Bruce Wayne as CEO will not magically solve your issue; if anything, it will worsen it."

At the end of his speech, Tim leaned on the table to show he was serious. He couldn't straight up threaten them, however, it was easy enough to say "rumours would start" and that "the Wayne household would oppose them".

He knew he had shaken them by the nervous looks the members exchanged between themselves but, what he really wanted to know, was did he push them enough?

"Those are impressive assumptions you are making," Mrs. Langlin interrupted, "You seem to think the public will take your father's side. I doubt that will happen seeing how his reputation has just been publically demolished. Most will want him gone from Wayne Entreprises. We are a respected corporation and we certainly don't need his many scandals hounding us. This one is simply the gravest in a long line of infractions against morality. I say enough is enough. It is time to restore this corporation's good reputation after the way your father has tarnished it."

A few nods answered her speech and Tim could feel the wind changing direction. He needed to put more pressure, "I assure you, as the head of the Drake household, I have more than enough power to influence the market."

It was a gamble, seeing how the Wayne family was much richer than the Drake family, to use his Drake heritage to try and salvage Bruce's heritage. It could possibly backfire or it might just convince enough undecided members to help Bruce keeps his CEO position.

His ears strained to hear the whispers around the table, all his senses gauging whether this was going to go in his favour or not. A few moments passed and Tim could see them preferring Mrs. Langlin's more conservative stance on the matter. Most were leaning toward the woman and listening to her reassurances.

The teenager's hands curled into the table; Bruce and Alfred had trusted him and he had failed them.

Mrs. Langlin rose to face Tim and opened her mouth when everyone froze at the sound of the doors slamming in the walls.

They turned as one in the direction and saw Damian-and what a sight he was!

Long gone were his usual clothes and hairstyle. Instead, he had a ceremonial robe of sheer green with gold weaved threads; his hair had gold threads weaved in them with beads of delicate almost translucent material. With his regal attire and his impressive scowl, you could almost forget he was a twelve-year-old brat and not a pissed off emperor. Well, Tim saw him as the brat he was, but impressionable people would see him as an impressive and powerful presence.

Damian stomped to the table and frostily glared at everyone at the table except Lucius and Tim, "You started this meeting without me."

The reproach was a slap in the face; Damian had absolutely no standing in Wayne Entreprises. Tim could see the members googled at his self-assertiveness. The teenager ground his teeth to keep from latching out in public at the younger kid.

This was awful... Embarrassing... If Tim could dig a hole, push someone in it and bury them alive, he would definitively choose Damian Al Ghul, who just kept making this situation worse.

"How dare you step in here and chastise us," Mrs. Langlin replied with (Tim noted) a more confused and worried tone than the one used on Tim.

"I dare?," the boy scoffed as he waved impetuously at them, "You cowards are the one acting outside your mandate and trying to betray Father in his most vulnerable state. As disloyal servants to your employer, your value is currently rated lower than a rat in a cat's race."

"Ooooh!"

"How dare he!"

Damian glared at them and they effectively shut up. He's only a rude twelve-years-old kid for God's sake!, Tim internally screamed at their clear hesitation and worry. 

"Father got shot in the head two days ago and you are already plotting to overthrow him. Let it not be said I will stand by idly as you plan your traitorous acts to rob him of his fortune." He banged his hand hard on the table, "I am not one you can trifle with. My mother's family is infinitely more powerful than Drake's." His eyes gleamed with malice so deep the Mariana Trench seemed shallow. Tim could see the board members fidgeting, gulping and avoiding Damian's eyes. That's all they amounted to?

"My mother and my grandfather will not take kindly to the fact you tried to punish Father when he is recovering from a bullet wound for having me twelve years ago. But if their retribution may come in the future, mine will rain upon you as soon as you make that foolish decision." That was a very obvious threat... Now, according to protocol, the board members would summon the guards to pick up Damian and, if Tim's evaluation was anything to go by, the members would laugh off the incident and Tim would feel the sting of shame about this particular episode for decades to come...

There was another moment of silence before Mrs. Brown cautiously questioned, "Are you threatening us, Mister... Wayne?" Seriously!?! They were already calling him Mister Wayne!?! Tim wanted to shake them awake with his bare hands. Damian had stormed in without status and he had successfully been seen as a credible threat while they had dismissed Tim's pressure (despite how often they had been privy to Tim's demonstrations of his business acumen). 

Damian smirked evilly, "I don't threaten. I only make promises that are kept. I would suggest, for your own good, you do not place me in a situation in which I would have to make good of my word." What. A. Brat. 

At those words, Damian threw the members (except Lucius and Tim) one last withering look and walked out as dramatically as he had appeared. 

The deafening silence in the room was a statement to Damian's phenomenal visit. 

Mr. White coughed and, just like that, everyone regained their voices. 

"That's a kid, right?"

"Last time, he stabbed the table with a spoon. Was it a real spoon?"

"Who is his mother's family?!?"

"Even the devil has better manners..."

"He threatened us... Who the heck is it?"

"Who did Bruce Wayne seduce this time? The mafia? A member of parliament?"

"I'm not getting involved in this... I thought being a member of Wayne Entreprises was supposed to be a safe job in an insane city."

"Silence!" Mrs. Brown yelled as she rose. Everyone simmered down. 

"We still have to vote on how the Board will react to Bruce's indiscretion being publically known. Notwithstanding the distraction, we still have a job to do."

And that was it. They voted and Tim was baffled when they voted to keep Bruce as CEO. 

After Mrs. Brown's call for silence, nobody raised the subject of Damian's interruptions. They all said things like: "We are a progressive corporation. We have to show the world that we stand by our words" or "Wayne Entreprises rely on Wayne's family name. It will be risky to reject their involvement" or even "Under Bruce Wayne's 'leadership', Wayne Entreprises has flourished. There is no reason to think the change of Bruce Wayne's status will ultimately affect the corporation's standing in the long run."

After the vote had been made and a public statement was drafted, the members filed out of the room, leaving Mrs. Brown, Lucius and Tim. 

The senior lady gave Tim a sharp glance, "We gave you the result you wanted but, you better remind your brother not to threaten us. We are only doing our jobs and the last thing we want is for people to fear for their lives because of their independent thinking is not being respected."

Tim gathered himself enough to frown, "In that case, why did you let him finish his speech?"

Her lips tugged upwards, "Maybe I believe that Wayne Entreprises should have a Wayne at its helm and your brother was the best way to obtain the necessary result. Still, don't press your luck." With that last warning, she left them alone. 

Tim looked at Lucius with a questioning look, "How the heck did that work?" 

Lucius shrugged and stood, "Don't ask me. It's not the first miracle I've seen your family perform on the Board. I still have no idea how it works."

Tim cocked his head in the family friend's direction. 

Lucius gave a small smile, "You should have seen Martha Wayne. She'd politely come in and discuss something that had seemingly nothing to do with their meetings, like poverty, when she decided the consequences of their decisions would be too terrible on the lower income of the town. She wouldn't even argue or anything; she'd sat and talk as if they were her friends, not board members. Then, she would walk out with a polite goodbye and the Board would always change the way they had been ready to vote." Lucius shook his head, "She was really a great woman."

"Did Bruce ever do the same?" At Lucius's raised eyebrow, Tim hurriedly added, "Interrupt the meeting and change the members' position with random talk?"

"Only once," Lucius elaborated, "When Dick Grayson became his ward, the board assembled and had to talk about their future, especially since a lot of them didn't want an ill-educated acrobat as their future CEO. Bruce came in with pictures and, with bubbly enthusiasm, explained how much Dick was a good kid, then, he walked out, not even commenting on their secret meeting. That, too, worked like a charm."

Tim felt a tightening in his stomach as he understood this was a biological Wayne thing.

"And Dick," Lucius added, "really stole the scene."

"He what?", Tim was startled out of his thoughts. 

Lucius smiled fondly, "Because Dick was Bruce's first ward, there was a lot of question about Bruce's capacity to take on childrearing, especially considering how he depicts himself in public. At one of his lowest point of gossip, the social services wanted to remove Dick from his care. It was a huge scandal and the Board wanted to distance themselves from it. Dick came in and cried rivers in my arms for half an hour. He hiccupped and excused himself and that was it of the quiet plan to distance themselves."

Tim frowned and passed a hand on his forehead, "It shouldn't work."

"I agree," Lucius said as he nodded, "however, I'm glad it did. Although, this time, it is also thanks to you it worked. A lot of members were undecided because of your arguments, even before your brother's intervention."

Tim shook his head, "I didn't do anything."

"Don't say that," Lucius admonished him, "I know Bruce's current health is worrying, but, he is proud of who you are. Don't you ever doubt it."

"Why do you say that?" 

Lucius shook his head, "He barely share anything personal, but when he does, it is to brag about his kids. Seeing how I'm a father too, we sometimes discuss child care."

Tim grimaced at the word "discuss". Lucius relented, "I talk about my children and he sometimes adds something. Since we are talking about Bruce, I count that as discussing."

"Fair enough."

"Send him my regards when he wakes up," the older man offered his hand to Tim. The teenager stood and shook his hand, "I will. Thanks for all of your help, Lucius."

"Always my pleasure. Good luck with your new responsibilities and please keep Bruce in bed as long as possible."

Tim smiled back. Maybe, just maybe, they would survive this without too much bloodshed.

***

Green Lantern's hate for League meetings never went away. 

Especially when he knew one of the other members always got away with not attending. 

"Spooky is not here, again?" he interrupted the conversations, "It never ceases to surprise how he always thinks he's the f***ing king or something, even after he told us we needed to work together to stop the world's invasion."

Superman, surprisingly enough, glared at him and his jaw settled as if priming himself for a fight, "He's busy."

Green Lantern, Black Canary, Green Arrow, Flash and Wonder Woman blinked at the uncharacteristic reaction from the normally polite superhero. 

Oh, sh*t... Green Lantern had forgotten Superman just had his "maybe" bonded partner shot in the head by Gotham's Joker. Of course, he'd be upset if Batman cared more about attending a weekly meeting (not even the monthly meeting he had promised to attend) than capturing a villain.

Green Arrow lifted one eyebrow, "You now talk to him outside of League missions?" 

"Is that a problem?" Superman responded in a defensive manner. 

There was a beat before Black Canary smoothly answered, "No, it's good you are able to communicate with him. It will help us coordinate with the Batfamily's resources, especially considering how much we need to prepare for the increase in alien's influence on Earth."

J'onn neatly cut in the tensed mood by reminding them they needed to review Batman's plan's details and determine which objectives had been accomplished. 

"Were you able to obtain the vaccines, Green Lantern?"

Hal sighed, "It is bureaucratically red-taped sealed until one of my friends works through it level by level. According to her, it's possible, though it may take some time seeing how they, the bureaucracy, don't view us "primates" humans favourably."

"Well, we have time to work on our insults in the meantime," Green Arrow winked. 

Black Canary might have shoved her elbow in his sides because he shut up immediately after with a pinched expression.

"And have you spoken to Zatanna, Black Canary?"

"Not yet," she reported, "From what I have heard, she was stuck in another dimensional pocket and had to find the culprit before she could get out. Hopefully, she'll get out before her next show."

That was the cool thing about superheroes, Green Lantern thought, they got to use all the strange excuses no homework teacher would ever accept. In case someone comments on you being late for your Monitor duty, you got to say a gigantic sea monster ate you and you had to fight your way out of an underwater labyrinth (well, only if it's true, because Batman, J'onn J'onzz and Wonder Woman would know if you lied).

"And Ray Palmer?"

"He's busy, however, he's more than ready to assist us to ensure Earth is safe," Superman answered. 

"Have you started to breach the subject of alien influence with the United Nations, Diana?" J'onn continued.

She shook her head, "Not directly. I have consulted with their committee on outside influences and they reported their collected statistics confirmed an increase on alien contrabands, alien sightings and attacks. I think we should also study the information and try to concentrate her meagre actual resources on the problematic regions to limit their influence." 

J'onn agreed and the league members started to discuss the needed mission and vision of the alien intervention force needed to protect humans from sickness, technology, immigration and social-economical changes. 

Superman, quiet by his usual standard, finally commented, "I believe our vision should be more open than the one proposed by Batman"

The other members turned their head in his direction. "What do you mean?"

"We have much to gain in integrating some of the alien technologies that will be made available to us, not just for self-defence purpose, but, also for the improvement of the human condition, especially medically and environmentally."

Green Lantern remembered Superman writing on his Fortress of Solitude's wall improvements to Batman's proposal. He wanted to bang his head on the head; he really thought he had somehow talked Superman out of that idea, especially since it was so intricately-emotionally motivated. 

Green Arrow tilted his head, "That seems the kind of decision all of mankind must take together, especially considering how risky that is. I'm sure some people would use the technology, no matter how inoffensive it may originally seem, as weapons or means to take advantages of others."

"I don't understand," Superman said with a questioning look, "We always make calls for the entire world to save it. I don't see why stopping a vessel of monsters bent on world domination is different from stopping or, at least, slowing down climate change."

Arthur nodded pensively, "We might be able to save the oceans. I've been trying, unsuccessfully, to stop the depletion of fish varieties and the water pollution made your people that poison our world."

"It is the same for my people," Diana agreed, "We might be able to limit the negative effects arising from Men's World's actions and help my people live as they should, in harmony with nature, not simply struggling to survive on the edge of Men's World."

"Uh, that seems kind of dangerous," Flash remarked, "I mean... it's like using magic to fix our problems? There is bound to be side-effects that may be worst than the problems they are fixing?"

Hal had to agree on Flash on the matter, "Yeah, as much as I want to cure cancer and stop climate change, I'm not sure if setting out to accomplish those kinds of things as our priority goals isn't overly ambitious. Security and protection should still be our top priority."

"And it will be," Superman calmly answered, "Security and protection of Earth's people would always come first. But, should we really limit ourselves to those objectives? This might be the start of a new era for Earth and ambition has always been the motor of innovation and change. We don't need to keep our ambitions limited to the status quo. The sky, or the galaxy, in this case, is the limit. We can dream of a better world, not of simply moping up messes." 

Hal took in the other members' expression and saw Superman's hopefulness was getting to most of them. J'onn, Ollie and himself were the ones that looked wary of the suggestion while Diana and Arthur were clearly convinced. Wally and Dinah seemed undecided but very interested in Superman's proposal. 

For once in his life (and he even regretted thinking it), Hal was deploring Batman's absence at the table; if the man came after everyone was convinced, he wouldn't be able to budge any of them, but if he was there at the start, he would try to clarify the possibilities'impacts in the most straightforward manner before opinions could be crystallized. 

Hal didn't know how to stop Superman's momentum so he simply tried to adjourn the matter, "As interesting as this is, I believe this is a debate we should have another day. Superman, you told us the priority would be security and protection, so I suggest we concentrate on those matters for now and we could reopen the debate another day."

He could see the others exchanging looks, "Who's with that?"

Dinah gave him an amused look, "You do know you have to propose that as a motion and have it seconded, right?"

He rolled his eyes; of course, she would hint he didn't normally contribute at League meetings and that was why he wasn't following protocol. 

"I motion to adjourn the debate about the limits of our mission and goal."

"I second the motion," Green Arrow's hand shot up. 

"Does anyone contest it?" Dinah's voice enunciated. There was no answer.

"That matter is put over to the next meeting. Now, concerning the issues of security and protection..."

***

LL (Lois Lane): Clark, are you feeling a bit better?

CK: I am. Thanks. 

LL: Today, you told me you saw him. I hadn't had the chance to ask you how you managed that. How did you do it?

CK: I had a friend's help. 

LL: Is he doing better?

CK: Yes. He's still in a coma, though. 

LL: Well, good luck with that. 

CK: Thanks.

***

R: RH?

RH: mm?

R: Are you still sleeping? We got our showdown scheduled tonight.

RH: Hey, I had to patrol as RH after our patrol. 

R: I know, it's just, there are so many things that could wrong tonight.

RH: Are you talking about Joker or M?

R: I don't worry so much about M. Joker and X, on the other hand, are going to be troublesome. I doubt we will be able to catch either one tonight, although, they might show up. Civilians will also come close to our meeting spot even if we did manage to get the police to do crowd control.

RH: Don't worry, R, the worst that can happen is that we all get tortured and murdered. I'm kind of used to it by now.

R: No dead jokes! It's not funny tonight.

RH: ...Seriously, why are you so nervous?

R: Playing games with Joker, especially when B is out of commission, is terribly risky. 

RH: Hey, if you want to hear bullsh*t platitudes, bother N, not me. I'm not telling you nice things to get your nerves under control.

R: I don't want nice words. Just tell me you won't lose control tonight. The last thing we need is an out of control Batman amidst the chaos.

RH: Fine... I'll try not to go too out of control. 

R: Thanks!

Robin has disconnected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is lenghtier than usual, which is my excuse for its tardiness.


	17. Gotham's Princeling Part IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of the Gotham's Princeling arc.
> 
> A confrontation happens: M is revealed. Joker appears. Superman messes up (again). Bruce wakes up.

"Master Bruce?" Alfred's utterly devasted voice called him from the other side of the door.

Bruce covered his ears to block it away.

"Bruce, open the door. You know I'll break it if necessary."

That's always what Alfred did: break down Bruce's walls by force or ingenuity, but, not this time, Bruce had decided.

He could hear the knocking growing more and more intense and more desperate. Bruce shook his head, that was wrong, Alfred was never desperate.

Alfred was strong, much stronger than Bruce; no matter what happened, he could wake up and do his duty. Bruce, on the other hand, couldn't get out of his own heart when it hurt, couldn't face the world behind his barricades. He bled away, wounded, without a clue how to fix it, to repair himself.

They told him it was normal: this was grief. He knew it was an inexact statement.

Normal people grieved in waves of denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Granted, it wasn't exactly a linear process. Nevertheless, Bruce never experienced it like that.

"Complicated grief," someone had once called it, not that it had explained any better what Bruce was going through.

Bruce didn't really understand the distinction because that's all he had ever known. For him, mourning wasn't a state of mind that would eventually fade into your everyday routine life; it was as if...your very life had ended when their memory slipped away. You had to grab onto them and keep them plastered in your brain, no matter if it cost you your new memories' place.

"Bruce," Alfred almost screamed, "I know he's dead but I refuse to lose you too." It wasn't his usual butler-tone, Bruce detachedly observed.

"Bruce, please... please come out."

Bruce almost gave in to the pleadings as he had done after his parents' death. A small part of him still called him a coward for submitting to the older man's demands.

Bruce swallowed.

He didn't want to hurt anyone anymore. Especially not Alfred.  
He didn't need to take care of Bruce anymore. Alfred had always sacrificed more than he should have to Bruce's life. Wasn't it time for Alfred to make his own life?

"Go away," Bruce had whispered to the door.

"You bloody well know I'm not leaving, Bruce. Stop being such a stubborn fool and open the door," Alfred answered with some bite.

"Leave me alone," Bruce had replied.

"I'm never leaving you alone," Alfred hit the door (uncharacteristically) in frustration, "You know Jason wouldn't forgive me if I did."

Jason. Another strong one. A real soldier. Nothing like Bruce.

Another soul Bruce had thought he would wrest out of the Death's hands. Ironically, he had shoved him right in his palms...

After what seemed like hours, the hammering had gone away. Then, he heard a new voice.

"Bruce?"

It didn't make sense. This wasn't Tim's voice.

"Bruce?" the hesitant voice continued, "Are you asleep?"

Dick had made it clear he didn't want to be in Bruce's life any longer. Besides, this voice was too young.

"Dick?"

"Yes?"

"What do you want?" he tried to use a soothing tone, something that wouldn't make the young child flee.

"Can I stay with you a bit? I promise I won't make too much noise," the young boy added in quite desperately.

Bruce closed his eyes. He never could leave a scared stiff child alone in the middle of the night.

Slowly he rose and opened the door, and behold, in front of him, a frightened child was looking up at him in hope.

"Come on in," Bruce invited him before closing the door. Dick raced straight for the covers and made an impressive nest of them. Bruce knew he was going to either fetch more covers or be cold for the rest of the night. At seeing Dick's shy smile, he found he couldn't care as he lied on the bed beside his ward.

Sometimes, Dick wanted Bruce to tell him a Moonlight Warrior story, and, sometimes, it was a Batman story. It never took a long time for the chatty child to fall asleep. And, in the morning, he would always complain that Bruce didn't finish the story.

Bruce couldn't help but smile. Some new memories were worth letting in.  
***

Superman hated waiting, especially since he wasn't even sure anything would happen tonight. He had positioned himself a few roofs away to get a good look at whatever showdown Joker had planned with Batman. He just hoped Bruce wasn't crazy enough to appear tonight. Was he even out of his coma?

"What are you doing here?" a voice distracted him from his thoughts.

Superman looked down to see a really pale man in an ugly lime green hoodie with the words "Don't think Santa Clause exists? I've got his severed head somewhere in my basement" sprawled in shaky lettering on it. The 'casual' sweater was hideously paired with purple formal pants and shoes that had to be too big for the feet. Superman knew he shouldn't let his prejudice blind him and that he should be open-minded about people's appearance but something about that man was freaking him off, maybe it was the raspy voice or the shiny eyes gleaming from under the cover of the hood.

"Uh, I'm Superman?" Kal answered, somehow mystified why anyone would ask what he was doing there. Nowadays, nobody asked him that question.

"You don't belong here." 

Kal blinked and struggled to find an adequate answer, "Uh, I'm just giving Batman a hand?" 

"You're friends with him?" the shifty voice insisted.

"I guess you could call us that?" Kal answered.

"That's good to know, pancake," the man replied with a smirk. What was up with the "pancake" nickname?

There was an uncomfortable pause in which Superman realized he hadn't asked his interlocutor for his name, which is bad manner. "I didn't quite catch your name."

The man cocked his head to observe Superman with cold interest, "You can call me the pale man." Uneasiness twisted in Superman's stomach.

"That's your name?" Kal asked somehow dubiously but politely enough not to come off as rude.

The man gave a goosebump-inducing chuckle, "Names in Gotham have power. People and monsters alike, are... delightfully resentful if someone is stupid enough to take what's theirs. In Gotham, you shouldn't touch what's not yours or they'll flatten you." The nonchalant and uncaring way the man had told Superman scared him to the bone.

"That's what I like about Gotham, you know, all sorts of... special monsters live here. This is the closest to a home I've ever had."

Superman shivered and looked back the spot, a few roofs away, where Joker was supposed to appear that night.

***  
"Everyone is in place?" Oracle asked in her distorted voice.

"Nightwing is in place."

"Yes," Black Bat's voice answered.

"Red Robin in place."

"Spoiler in place."

"Robin in place."

There was a pause and Oracle insisted, "Batman?"

"Yeah, yeah. Geez, leave me alone. I know what to do."

"Good. Agent A, any other changes with B?"

"His cerebral activities have heightened to reach almost pre-incident levels. Other than that, his state is stable. I'm initiating the Fortress protocol."

"Good, we wouldn't want him to be used as a distraction or us to be used as a distraction tonight," Oracle added in, "You all know what to do tonight. If everything goes well, we'll have Joker and our mysterious killer under locks tonight."

"Yeah, as if anything goes to plan in Gotham," Jason sarcastically replied.

"Uh oh," Dick's voice commented.

"What?" Spoiler replied.

"Some reporters have bypassed the police's blockade. Civilians are at risk in Black Bat's sector."

"I take care."

"I see someone heading your way, Red Hood," Robin added in.

"Good. I'm ready for some action."

"Batman action," Oracle clarified.

"Whatever."

"Smoke bombs! Someone is trying to limit our field of vision," Spoiler reported.

"I'm going in," Red Robin answered.

"No," Oracle commanded, "you are staying in position."

"The person is shooting at our Joker mannequin," Robin added in.

"Does Batman need any help?" Oracle asked.

"He's got it under control, but I'm moving into position if he needs some backup."

"Everything under control, Black Bat?" Oracle asked.

"Yes."

"I have eyes on the person of interest," Tim commented," I'm sending you all a picture of her."

A few moments later, Red Robin and Spoiler claimed, "We know that person."

"Where?"

"She was at the party. She wanted us to get out of the room because Damian is a child and speeches are boring. She called herself Sparrow. Well, she's dressed a bit differently, but back then, she had a gorgeous red dress and a nice matching purse," Stephanie explained.

"That seems to take care of the question of who shot Bruce. Got that, Batman?" Oracle confirmed.

"Yeah," Jason exhaled as some background could be heard from his comm.

"Robin?"

"I'm implanting protocol "Jaws"."

"We got her," Tim assured them a bit later, "She avoided the slippery steps and the net but fell for the gas in the Joker mannequin. Batman is securing her as we speak."

"Good. The smoke?"

"There's nothing," Spoiler replied.

"Keep your eyes sharp. We've got at least a second person roaming around the meeting place," Oracle commented.

***

Batman stalked his prey, the one choking on the part of the paralyzing gas she had inhaled. Her clothes left a lot to be desired for an assassin's efficiency: the tailored red pants and shirt seemed stylish in a ridiculous, fabulous way; her blond hair spilled from their not-tight-enough bun; she wore shoes that seemed a mixture of working boots and high society gala's slippers (how was that even possible?); and, worse still, she hadn't even bothered to disguised her face other than obscuring it with a grey hat. Jason clenched his fist in frustration: she was the dangerous assassin after the old man's life? That was clearly a mistake.

If years of vigilante work had taught him one thing, it had to be that nothing was as simple as it seemed in Gotham.

Although nowadays he preferred guns, he was still adequate at Batarang throwing. He threw his weapons at her, forcing her to retreat against the wall, following exactly what Tim and himself had planned the previous night. Jason just needed to corral her to the wall and, from there, he would use his height and weight advantage to completely overwhelmed her.

Batman moved in and easily managed to shove her hard against the wall. Jason, using the voice modifier, growled, "Who are you?"

She tried to break his pin and grew agitated as it became clear she couldn't.

Batman rose to his full height and glared at her before saying, "You better tell me what I want to know."

"That's your best threat?" she asked incredulously with an angry edge.

Batman drew his face closer to hers and breathed, "You made an enemy of Joker in Gotham. It would be... unwise to also make me more your enemy than you already have done."

She shook her body again to dislodge him. It failed. Batman scowled at her in silence, letting the tension ratch up.

Finally, she answered, "I'm Sparrow."

Jason knew it corresponded with the name Stephanie had given him.

"Why are you after the Joker?" he growled back.

Her eyes sent death glares his way, "He declined my offer to join my gang the Sparrows... And, by declining, I mean he murdered all my men."

Jason's thoughts swirled around with the information, "Why on Earth did you ask him to join your little gang?"

She squirmed under his grip, "He's the strongest villain in this town. If he had allied with me, we'd have terrorized the whole town. It would have been so easy to control the black market."

Jason could see she was yet another mafia gang leader unable to cope with the emergence of supervillains. Even though civilians thought villains and gang members were on the same wavelength, Jason knew gangs and mafia liked stability while the villains (especially Joker) thrived on chaotic activities. Their goals were mostly incompatible.

The woman in front of him had tried to get the upper hand by "controlling" the most chaotic element in the new game. She wasn't stupid as much as failing to cope with the changing times.

"Who do you work for?" Batman pushed forward, remembering this was vital information to receive.

She lifted an eyebrow, "I'm a gang leader. I don't work for anyone."

"Who's your ally?" Batman's grip strengthened.

She winced at the increased pressure and answered, "They never showed themselves without disguise."

"You must know something about them."

She shook her head, "I don't. They wanted me to teach them how to shoot and they made the plans. That's it. I didn't see them more than a few times."

Jason was getting exasperated by the lack of information as he pressed, "How do you address them?"

Her brows furrowed as she squirmed, "I asked them for their names. They said they had none to give me. I told them this was really hush-hush and they said I could call them that."

"Hush-hush?" Batman clarified.

"No, just hush-"

Her head splattered on the wall and ground, showering everything with bits of her brain. Batman took cover on the other side of a wall, but no more shots were fired.

"Batman?" Tim's worried voice came from his headpiece.

"In one piece. Where's the shooter?"

"I'm triangulating his position," Oracle declared, "In the meantime, all of you should take cover and protect civilians."

"Who was shot?" Dick asked.

"Sparrow," Jason replied, "Seemed to me she was the intended target. She was too willing to speak about her accomplice but she didn't seem to know anything."

"So, you think the shooter is her accomplice?" Stephanie questioned.

"I told all of you to stay put!" Oracle cut in, "Red Robin and Spoiler, included! The last thing we need is another person shot in the head."

Jason heard the voice before he saw the person, "Are you okay?" He looked up, every part of himself on the defensive, to see freaking Superman floating above him. Jason's heart sped up.

Why the f*ck was Superman even in town? Jason had thought Batman had made it clear to his Justice thingie pals that Gotham was his. Seemed they didn't all get the memo. His first instincts were to make a distraction and run away, but, then, he remembered he was Batman, not Red Hood. He couldn't afford to retreat in front of another hero and look weak.

Jason was freaking Gotham's Batman and this was "his" town.

"Get out of Gotham," Batman growled back at Superman in a menacingly way. Superman tilted his head in confusion and Jason could see his consternation. Great. What had Jason done that was out of the ordinary for Batman?

Superman opened his mouth and Batman cut him off by repeating in a threatening voice, "Get out of Gotham."

There was a flash. Damn. Time to make his escape before they get any more photos of Batman. The old man was notorious for not letting anyone take photos of himself.

Superman glanced around, looking more puzzled than angered at Batman's behaviour, and just nodded, "We'll talk later." With that, he flew away.

Jason escaped the new arrivals (police officers, reporters, curious civilians...) and listened in to the rest of the Batfamily's communications.

"Nobody there," Black Bat had reported.

"They already escaped..." Oracle noted, "They don't appear on any cameras around the building."

"The smoke was started by a simple smoke time bomb. Whoever did this was prepared," Spoiler reported.

"What did Superman want with you?" Robin asked.

Everyone's attention turned to that line of thought.

"Superman is here!?!" fanboy Dick asked.

"Tch," Red Robin commented.

"Did the inside out underwear look more ridiculous in person?" Spoiler asked.

"What is he doing in Gotham?" Robin asked.

"At this point, I really don't know and don't care," Batman answered, "I told him to get lost and he did."

There was a silence in which that sank in.

"You chased Superman away? That's so uncool," Dick literally pouted in his headpiece.

"Good riddance," Red Robin approved.

"Can we concentrate on the fact there is still a dangerous killer at large?" Oracle asked.

"Where are we at with that?" Robin's voice responded.

"Sparrow had nothing interesting on her person," Batman reported. 

"Can't we try to find more information about the Sparrow gang she was talking about?" Spoiler asked. 

"I'm already on it," Oracle answered, "It was a mid-size gang in the Eastern part of Gotham before the Wayne's murders. Since then, they slowly lost their influences; they got robbed, bombed and killed by different villains and criminal organizations over the years. Sparrow, this evening's victim, was born Eveline Francis Goetia and she was well-respected in the criminal community for her ruthlessness and marksmanship. She took over her mother's leadership position three years ago when her step-brother failed to take over the gang's leadership after committing murder. Rumours have it she got her revenge. Under her leadership, the gang had some degree of success until almost all members seemed to have died a year ago under suspicious circumstances. As is often the case in criminal organizations, the police couldn't get anything specific on who might be the murderers. "Sparrow" went dark at about that time. I have yet to see any indications about her activities since her gang's murders."

"Any known associates that may fit the pattern of Hush?" Robin interrogated as each vigilante was currently leaving the immediate area of the meeting place. 

"Not yet," Oracle admitted, "But I'm just skimming very summarily through the file."

"Good. Keep it up. We'll sweep through town to make sure there are no more unpleasant surprises tonight," Batman answered. 

***

"How is he doing?" Alfred asked J'onn. 

The Martian lifted his head to look at his friend's family, "Your son should wake up before daybreak." At the stoic human's responding blinking, J'onn sensed he had made another misstep. 

"I apologize, it seems I said something inappropriate. May I ask what my mistake is?"

Alfred answered quite primly, "Master Bruce is not my son."

J'onn stared immutably at the human, uncertain whether it was appropriate for him to make another comment or if it would offend his host's sensibilities. Humans had so many grey areas in their behaviours it was hard to distinguish what was the appropriate responses. Most time, when J'onn doubted what was the correct behaviour on Earth, he would simply avoid giving his opinions. Earth had welcomed him here; it would be impolite and malapropos to judge humans' erratic, incoherent and strange behaviours. His perspective was the incongruous one: not theirs. 

As had already happened numerous times with Bruce, J'onn could see Alfred's sharp eyes catching his hesitation. 

"You have something to tell me, Mister J'onzz?" Alfred's proper but insistent reply was more than an invitation. 

J'onn tried to pacify the human, "I'm sorry for upsetting you. That was not my intention." 

Alfred stepped forward, his emotions surging strongly under the impassive face and composure. J'onn had had several similar unfortunate episodes with Batman over the years. As much as he knew the empath part of himself was innately himself, he disliked how his skills agitated humans. 

Surprisingly enough for J'onn, Alfred sat on the seat beside him and asked his question a second time, "What did you have to tell me, Mister J'onzz?"

"I was not trying to pry into your thoughts, especially since I am aware of Bruce's reluctance with sharing his feelings with anyone else. Unfortunately, I automatically pick up strong emotions and thoughts," J'onn explained. 

Alfred's unconcerned appearance did not fool J'onn's senses. 

"Consequently, I distinctively heard you calling him your son," J'onn gently said. 

Alfred glanced at Bruce before focusing his eyes on J'onn again, "What I feel on the matter is unimportant, Mister J'onzz. He's not my son."

The Martian could feel the waves of melancholy, sadness and grudging acceptance emitted from the human sitting beside him. Like Batman, the repressed feelings had only seemed to grow in strength. The best analogy he could find was that it was a tsunami of complicated feelings caged within a vessel. 

"I do not mean to contradict you, but I feel it my duty to point out your feelings do matter, especially to Bruce." 

Alfred brushed his son's hand, "I've always been his employee."

Maybe it was because J'onn had frequented Batman for a long time, but, this time, he could grasp part of Alfred's reluctance to call Bruce his son. He didn't want Bruce's loyalties to be divided between his dead father and his butler. Humans were complicated, J'onn couldn't help mentally noting. 

Bruce's hand moved fractionally and Alfred stood up and bent over him, "Bruce?"

J'onn's friend shifted and his eyes slowly fluttered open. 

"Master Bruce?"

J'onn could feel his friend's mind whirling with questions his mouth couldn't ask. He felt it was time he intervened, "Bruce, do you want me to assist you in asking your questions?"

Bruce's eyes carefully assessed him before nodding his assent. 

"What happened?" J'onn repeated the question his friend pushed toward him. 

Alfred clenched Bruce's hands and sat down again, "You were at an event at Thomas Elliot's manor with Mistress Barbara, Mistress Stephanie and Master Damian and you got shot in the head."

"Who shot me?" J'onn asked his friend's question. 

"A woman named Sparrow. They caught her tonight. She was shot in the head, probably by her accomplice. The only thing she managed to divulge was their name: Hush." 

"Are the kids okay?"

"They are, Master Bruce. I believe they'll be thrilled to see you awake."

"How long was I out?"

"A bit more than two days, Master Bruce."

Bruce's eyelids closed and he went back to sleep. 

"Are you hungry, Mister J'onzz?" 

"I do not want to impose any further," the Martian replied. 

"Nonsense. You accepted to scan his head to see if you could find any alien technology in it and you helped him calm down earlier tonight, all of that on short notice. I believe you deserve a little treat," Alfred declared in a way the Martian knew he was boxed in. 

"Master Bruce did mention your love of some cookies and milk. Would you mind if I serve you that in a celebration of Bruce waking up?"

"In that case, I would gladly accept your invitation," J'onn answered, feeling a bit less of an intruder this time in this human dwelling. 

***

A (Arsenal or Roy Harper): RH? Are you done?

RH: Yeah. 

A: Joker?

RH: Wasn't there, but we caught the shooter.

A: Ok. How was it, being Batman again? Was it as weird as usual?

RH: Better. 

A: Oh?

RH: I lorded over Robins; I didn't even have to question whether to kill or not because our villain got killed by someone else and; I chase away Superman. 

A: Superman? In Gotham? 

RH: Yeah. Don't know why either. You should have seen his face. 

A: Aren't you scared your old man is going to lecture you for destroying his relationships with other heroes?

RH: Doubtfully. That would imply he has relationships with other heroes. 

A: I know you told me he was antisocial, but he can't be that bad. I mean, he's still part of the Justice League.

RH: Yeah, no. For him, socializing=waste of time

A: Fun...

RH: I know we had plans for our next target, but I think it will have to wait a bit more.

A: No worries. I've got things to do too.

***

A really pale man walked in the dark alleys of Gotham, his voice mumbling strange words: "Are those Robins? Are those Owls? Is that Superman? No! They are all pancakes!"

He cackled until he almost choked on his own saliva. "Well, time to prepare Gotham for its Bat... and Clown feast. Want your friends to come, Batsy? I'll serve them a special murder plate, just for them. Birds and other flight-thingies are the appetizers. Then, Gotham's main course and we'll have Batdessert after. Can't wait to taste it..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who didn't know, "the pale man" is rumored to be one of Joker's nicknames. 
> 
> Hush is the name of one of Batman's famous villains. 
> 
> If you're wondering who Gotham's Princeling is, let's just say there are a few suspects that fit the bill...
> 
> As for Sparrow, she's an actual Batman villain who appeared once in the Batman comics. Her role was a bit different in it. She pretended to be Joker to announce to the newspapers he would steal an object. She make it appear as if he failed so the real Joker would be upset enough to come at her next announcement. As in this fic, she wanted to take revenge on him for refusing her offer that he joins her gang. There was no murders in the canon story (from either side).
> 
> Lastly, I realized my updates for this fic are increasingly irregular... Oh well, at least I posting something once a month or so.


End file.
